Pandora's Mischief
by Serria
Summary: The ever so glamorous Wedy the Burglar is hired by L to put her skills to good use in the Kira case. However, she becomes far more interested in the handcuffs between the detective and Light Yagami, and intends to play matchmaker. WedyxEveryone, LxLight
1. Eros

**PANDORA'S MISCHIEF: Part 1**

Summary: The ever-so-glamorous Wedy the Burglar is hired by L to put her skills to good use. However, she becomes far more interested in the handcuffs between the detective and Light Yagami, and intends to play match-maker.

Rating: M, for foul language, sexuality and lots of sexual references, yaoi

Spoilers: The events of the Yotsuba arc, as well as the real names of Aiber and Wedy

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, Wedy, L, Light, no one,_ nada_.

**EROS**

* * *

Merrie Kenwood was a self-declared match-maker, and she never saw anyone more tragically perfect for each other than L and Light Yagami (And on her honor as a thief, she swore that the reason that she was going to ensure that they put the handcuff that bound them to better uses had _nothing_ to do with the fact that she was bored). It was simply part of her dazzling, charitable personality that she took this messy and seemingly hopeless task upon herself. Certainly she was not an easy woman to understand, she was so full of secrets behind her flawless skin and perfect makeup, but if she was asked to describe, she would say one thing: 

She liked mythology.

Myths of old were full of action, drama, suspense and romance, and she was a sucker for the whole lot. Merrie quite truly thrived off of excitement, living on an untamed high. She didn't _need_ to become the goddess of burglary, code named "Wedy", hell no. She was born into a rich family and was already set to inherit hundreds of thousands. But the job suited her. It was in her genetics to have natural scheming cleverness and an alluringly luscious body. It could be called unfortunate (though hell if she knew why) that it was also in her genetics to lead a dangerous life of flair and glamor. Her sister went off to become a Broadway actress. Merrie stole a motorcycle and made her fame in professional thievery.

She was hardly the easiest child for her parents to manage (on the contrary, she was a wild she-devil), but there was one time when Merrie was surprisingly compliant - this was bedtime. Her parents would tuck her in under handmade quilts from Italy. She would smile a charming smile and act like a docile kitten, and inevitably her parents would tell her a story. The stories would never be less than three-hundred years old. They instead told her mythological legends from around the world - Ancient Greece, Britain, Native American, Chinese, Babylonian, you name it.

There was one story in particular that she simply adored, and this was 'Pandora's Box'. The first woman to be created, the voluptuously sexy Pandora, was sent as a present to Epimetheus. The gods sent the couple a variety of wedding gifts, and one was a pretty box in which Pandora was specifically told not to open. The woman was a creature of sensationalism and curiosity, and one day when her fiancée was away, she found the box and quivering hands pulled off the lid. Out of the box spread all the evil things in the world - despair, sadness, agony, PMS, diet Pepsi and lawyers. And then at the very bottom of the box was the irreplaceable thing in which just almost made it all worthwhile - a little thing called 'Hope'.

Well, Merrie Kenwood was no longer a young girl, she was a woman. And Pandora, for some reason or another, that crazy First Woman Ever, was her idol. Like Pandora, she was sensual, beautiful, sexual and had the darkly-pleasing curiosity of a sly cat. It was undoubtedly this curiosity that lead her to being employed by L in the first place.

It hadn't been her first time meeting with L. Indeed, she knew full well that the supposed pedestal-of-justice detective was actually quite mysteriously familiar with the underground world. After the time she had successfully robbed the Museum of Natural History at age twenty-two, the impressed L had hunted her down. But instead of having her arrested, he asked for contact information because in the future, he might need her. He simply requested that she might keep the fact that he let her go all hush-hush. Clever little bastard. Just clever enough for _her_ to take interest in him. She gave him her word that she'd be there when he needed a thrifty hand. And because he was so fascinating, this man behind the computer screen, she actually had (mostly) every intention of keeping her word.

And sure enough, one day her computer screen went white with incoming message, the gothic letter 'L' standing with declaration. "Wedy? It's me, L. It looks like I need your help after all..."

Who knew that she, the criminal princess, would actually be given the opportunity to meet the mysterious man in the flesh. Her cat-like instincts told her that this meant that he was damned desperate, or was worried that she, being a gangster criminal princess might be less likely to betray him if she met him personally. A reasonable assumption, she reflected, because dogs were the loyal ones, not cats like her. Of course, it was no secret either that Merrie was a goddess among burglars, and L liked having gods on his side. He needed gods to fight a god: _Kira_.

And oh, yeah, she was totally willing to plant cameras and tap wires. She generally liked her line of work, liked it a helluva lot, and L was paying her kindly. But that wasn't the reason that she didn't sell L out to the underworld who would pay millions for his carcass. When she met him in the flesh, her woman's intuition clicked on.

"I'm glad to meet you, Wedy," greeted the low, detached voice. The first time she had heard it without it being voice-scrambled through computer software.

Head held high, a smirk on her red lips, she gazed through sunglasses at the man called L. A gangly, lanky guy, he was younger than she thought. Early to middle twenties for certain. He was slouched over like a hunchback, his hands jammed into the pockets of his over-sized jeans. He wore a rather dull expression on his pale, sunlight-deprived face that gave away no hints, but Merrie was a woman, not a man. Women had instincts, and she knew in her gut that he was making judgments about her just like she was of him. Well, she was in his debt after all, and he was paying her generously, so she'd do whatever he wanted. (Though she had to admit, she liked always have some _edge_ over her employers, some _advantage_, so that she knew that they wouldn't call the fuzz on her later.)

(And she swore by every god that she knew the name of that it wasn't this defensive animal instinct in her that lead her to wonder if L was seduceable. And later, she swore by every god twice that she wasn't playing match-maker because of that instinct. Really, no.)

Then she noticed a younger man, just an adolescent boy, standing near him. This kid was tall and slim, and though he had a mature look on his fair features he was hardly intimidating because his cheeks still had signs of youth in baby fat. His skin was still smooth and free of any stubble, and his chocolate eyes, looking out from wisps of long, straight strands of brunette hair, were strong and pure. He was the perfect contrast from L in every way, shape and form. He stood up straight, and he dressed in khaki pants and a nice dark sweater. All in all, yeah, a cute schoolboy. Darling, really. But she had met a thousand pretty boys - older and thus more to her liking, so he himself didn't particularly stand out.

She might've been content with just cooing over the cute one and turning her attentions back to business, but there it was - _a handcuff_. A chain, probably near six and a half feet long as far as Merrie could reckon, snaked on the floor between the two until it clasped up to a wrist each. This made her take a leather gloved hand and raise her sunglasses up on her blond head to get a better look. Now, it was simply an aspect of Merrie's personality where she liked putting people on edge, be it playful teasing or downright humiliation. And what better way to establish a sound relationship with her new employer? So she smiled slyly. "Who's your pretty little slave boy, L?"

The kid's jaw dropped when the words registered, wearing an almost comical look of shock. He blushed beat red. "What?! That's not-"

"His name is Light Yagami," L answered levelly, seemingly unperplexed. He stepped onto a swivel chair by a row of computers, and lowering his weight until he was perched like a parakeet. By the keyboard on the counter was a silver tray of quite expensive looking truffles, and L carelessly took one in delicate fingers. "He's my prime suspect in this Kira case. Also, if you please, refer to me as 'Ryuzaki' from now on."

_How deliciously kinky_. Merrie put a hand on her hip, her cool gaze on Light. He was squirming under her eyes, like so many men did. "He's absolutely adorable, _Ryuzaki_. Can I have one too, as a fringe benefit in addition to my paycheck? Complete the package with handcuffs, as well." And then her lips curved seductively as she batted her eyes at Light, who was blushing furiously, and she purred. "No... on second thought, I can provide my own handcuffs, can't I?"

In reality she had, of course, taken L's explanation for the chain seriously. Though L had a fucked up way of making his detective jazz, in the end he was playing the winning tune. She put nothing, no law, no human right violation passed him. It was simply in Merrie's nature to make suggestive comments in an effort to lighten the mood and break the ice. She expected L at least to ignore her chatter and bring up something about the case, because that was the kind of professional person she initially pegged him as. But what she _didn't _expect was for L to clear his throat loudly, indicating that she should stop but with a level of concealed discomfort. "_Ahem_. Wedy, if you please, I'm not doing this because I want to."

And then she knew.

She smiled brilliantly, flashing pearly white teeth. She knew that L was damned well doing it because he wanted to. Why else would he get defensive? And more than that, Light was still blushing though he turned away fiercely, so she assumed that the boy was just as obsessed with L. Charming. Absolutely charming.

But now Light had retreated a couple of steps, pulling the chain tight as he pretended to read some thick hard copy of a report at as far a distance as his captor could allow. And L made no effort to look at Light, either. That slack chain practically embodied the sexual tension between them.

"Oh, I see," Merrie purred, lowering her large sunglasses back over her eyes. "I see, indeed."

And because Merrie was a girl who liked mythology, because she was a girl who fancied herself the modern-day Pandora, Lady among Ladies, she was filled with an intense curiosity to open the present. The present neatly wrapped in two shirts, two pairs of pants and a six-and-a-half foot long chain.

This required its own investigation. Like Pandora, she passionately believed that presents were made to be unwrapped, if you will, and she hardly cared what might jump out of the box.

This was what was particularly on her mind when L made more introductions to the rest of her new co-workers... which, by the way, was a much more annoying reality. What L had failed to mention, and undoubtedly intentionally so, was that in this Kira investigation force worked several police men. No, not one, not two, but three of them, and one was a police _chief_. There was the young puppy-faced Matsuda, the burly and silent Mogi, and then there was Mr. Chief himself, Soichiro Yagami. This last bear-like man, Merrie found out, was none other than the father of the pretty boy Light himself. How precious.

She didn't much like that she was working directly with the law enforcement, and her instincts told her that they didn't much like it either.

"Ryuzaki, I don't much like it that we're working with criminals to _catch_ a criminal," Soichiro commented loudly.

Yeah... So it wasn't just her instincts.

Yes, Soichiro had mentioned criminals in the plural sense. That lead Merrie to the man known only as Aiber, according to himself and L, he was an expert con-artist. An alluring man with charismatic elegance, she immediately took a liking to him. He was older than her, judging by the faint crow's feet that stamped the sides of his delectable eyes, but Aiber was definitely a charmer.

"Hello, 'Wedy' was it?" he asked lightly, walking over to her with a winning smile. He spoke in English, which surprised Merrie, and his voice was coated with a mild French accent.

"English, eh?" She raised an eyebrow, making it visible from under her sunglasses, and responded in the same language. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes," he answered breezily. "Those large sunglasses brand you as a wild American girl, _mon ami._"

"Well!" Wedy was developing an immediate respect for her fellow law-breaker, but that didn't mean he was trustworthy and hardly yet a friend. So she gave a tantalizing smile, raising her glasses to peer at him through long lashes. "I'd peg you as French, then."

"Alas! What gave me away?" Aiber asked, contorting his face into playful shock. "My exquisite accent? My charming looks? Or perhaps my use of French language in my previous accusation to you?"

"Darling, you're the obvious one. I'll find out your real name soon, and don't you see all the police here at my disposal? I'll have you in handcuffs before you can say, '_au revior'_, and a handsome reward I'll get, I'm certain."

"Says the infamous Goddess of the Thieves, Wedy." He winked then - and damn, it was nicely done. Merrie had seen far too many repugnant winkers, but Aiber made it downright sexy. "Yes, my dear, I've heard of you among my crew. They say that you could steal the Crown Jewels of England one night, and then put them back the second night after security was tripled, and no one would know how you did it."

"I can steal anything. Jewels, technology, information... hearts..." She was quite honestly eyeing Aiber now. He was sure as hell handsome, and L's jobs sounded wild and busy. A break every now and again might be lovely, and Aiber could maybe provide the more interesting forms of relaxation.

Aiber raised a finger and swayed it in negation, shaking his head. "Sadly enough for you, _mon ami_, I have a wife."

_Damn. _"I assure you, that's sad for you, too."

"Oh, indeed, for like any good French man, I have refined tastes in love. Love is my wine, may I forever drink it and be left in drunk ecstasy! And the act of love-making, that is the only reason humanity has endured for so long. Without it we are surely lost." There was a certain level of obviousness in the statement - without love-making, humanity would not reproduce and indeed, they would be very lost then.

"Aiber! Wedy! " L called from across the room, speaking in Japanese, but he made it known that he knew English too, thank-you-very-much: "We have urgent matters to discuss, if I may temporarily halt your highly irrelevant discussion until a time when you are not on my payroll."

(And there was Light, glancing over at Aiber and then quickly looking away before Merrie stole his gaze. Still embarrassed from earlier.)

"Wait a moment, Aiber." Merrie lowered her voice after peering over at the boys and their handcuff. She murmured into Aiber's ear. "You're a con artist, so I'd like to see you help me with a little piece of art that I'm thinking about painting. Are you a French revolutionary, darling? Do you believe in ideals? Would you be a servant to love? Would you say your prayers to Aphrodite, to Bastet, to Freya and Aidin, to Venus and Kanikanihia?"

"I'm no idealist, Wedy, but I am French. And I am not a servant, but a knight to my fair Lady Love. In fact, I daresay that I could name as many love gods as you. Since we are in Japan, we must mention Benzaiten, the love _'kami'_?"

She gleamed, and her appreciation for this man doubled. "Find out for me if L is gay. The Yagami boy, too. It's not as if I personally am incapable of getting the idea, but I like to make my work thorough where I can. The charms of both a man and a woman need to be tested."

Aiber raised an eyebrow. "If you're hiring me for my skills, what's my payment?"

"How foul! But you serve Lady Love, not me. Or are you nothing but a false admirer? A pity, but I wouldn't put it passed a French man." With those words alone, the bait was set. She didn't even need to lower her shoulders slightly so that the curve of her breasts was emphasized (but she did anyway, for fun.)

The older man's eyes widened in something between amusement and offense. "You want me to falsely toy with my employer and his suspect in order to defend the French pride in that we are _not_ false to love at all?"

Merrie lowered her sunglasses over her devilish eyes, smiling with wicked delight. "Aiber, honey, we're the stars of the underworld. We're pinnacles of justice with questionable ethics. Why does our logic have to make sense?"

Aiber grinned back, a brilliant thing (and Merrie wondered if she could make him forget about his wife, just for one night). Then he held out his hand, which Merrie clasped, and they shook. She had made a friend.

* * *

It didn't help that Merrie had just spent some time at her home in Colorado so she suffered jet lag, or that her sleep hours were messed up anyway because she often worked late hours (ha, ha! She adored telling people that, it made her sound so professional), but it was definitely two in the morning and she was wide awake. L had offered her a lavish spare bedroom in his Kira hunting fortress, which Merrie gladly accepted. Actually, her intuition told her that L would've insisted upon it even if she had refused - he may have shown his face, but he didn't trust a thief walking to his hotel everyday. 

Listening to classical music on her iPod didn't seem to be helping, so Merrie intended to do the next best thing when it came to remedies for insomnia - bring on the alcohol. Not that she had any alcohol in her suitcase; unfortunately that would've been confiscated on her 100 percent legal plane ride (if you didn't count the fact that she paid for the ticket with a phony credit card). But L must have kept some fine wine somewhere in this fancy place - judging by the truffles he had been munching nonchalantly on upon her arrival, he had exquisite tastes.

So she exited her bedroom, wearing not much more than black lingerie, and wandered the hallways toward the main room where she remembered that there was a mini-fridge. What else could _possibly_ be in there? She knew that if _she_ was with the goddamned law enforcement, she'd simply have to be intoxicated the majority of the time. Her mouth watered at the thought of fine strawberry tequila, or hey, even _sake_ since this was Japan.

When she arrived in the said main room, she was shocked to find the lights still on. There wasn't a single computer shut down for the night. In fact, there wasn't even a single computer in its twenty-minute screen saver mode. And in this room, sitting on chairs in front of the biggest monitors, were none other than L and Light Yagami.

Merrie grinned viciously, and stopped in her tracks. L may have been amazing with security, but Merrie was a professional - probably one of the best in the world, and she would not be seen even though she wasn't more than twenty-five feet away. She lowered her body a little until she was almost crouching, and her cat-like eyes flickered to the two boys. What could they possibly be doing still awake? Working on the Kira case? Discussing whether or not L's suspicions in Light were well-founded? Readying themselves to give into their obsessive, homosexual urges and strip?

"Ryuzaki, could you toss me the highlighter, please?" Light asked in a tired voice, reading through some thick mess of stapled papers.

L has been typing on his computer with one hand, and the other hand was in a bag of what looked like chocolate chips. The hand that had been typing was surrendered to reach for a blue highlighter, which he tossed to Light. "Here, Light-kun. Please put the cap back on in between marks so that it doesn't dry out."

"Why are you telling me? You're the one who leaves it off all the time."

Well... that was kind of exciting. A little bit of bickering was promising. Merrie grit her teeth and waited longer, but nothing was happening - L had made no retort. Now they weren't even talking! Just sitting there like boring, business-only coworkers. What the hell, anyway! Merrie was only awake this late if she were working, partying, having sex, or all three. (Granted, she supposed that what the boys were doing qualified as 'work', sort of, but their boring silence annoyed her nonetheless.)

Disappointed, she stood up and continued walking as if she had never been spying in the first place. "Good evening, Ryuzaki, Light-kun," she greeted.

"You're awake?" Light asked. It was a dumb and rather pointless question, and he probably knew it, but the poor boy looked exhausted. He was blinking steadily to keep his in focus on her.

"Your eyes aren't lying, sweetie," she answered. "I'm indeed awake, though I don't really care to be. Which leads me to my objective. Ryuzaki, where do you keep the booze around this dump?"

"I never drink while I'm on a case," L said almost reprimandingly, turning to look at her with wide, dark-rimmed eyes. "Wedy-san shouldn't drink either, if she's serious about catching Kira. Let me remind you that you would be a prime target for such a killer, being the acclaimed criminal that you are."

"That's fabulous, honey, but you didn't answer my question." She was a little annoyed and wanted to return the favor to the hunched over L, which in turn made her mischievously happy again (she already knew what irritated him...). L had turned his white-shirted back to her, returning his gaze to his computer monitors. But the Yagami boy was furrowing his brow as he stared at the stapled packet of papers in his hands, clearly trying to stay awake. (Merrie had been known to have the ability to keep tired men up all night if she set her mind to it.) She inched toward the younger boy, standing over him with a hand on her hip. "Light-kun, sweetie, I don't suppose you know where L hides his liquor?"

Light looked up at her with surprised, almond-shaped eyes. "I'm only eighteen, Wedy."

"..So?"

"The legal drinking age in Japan is twenty."

"..So?"

"So, well..." Light's voice trailed off, and he adverted his eyes.

Merrie leered like a cat who had cornered a mouse. She lowered herself onto a chair right next to Light, and it had wheels so she delicately scooted in closer. Very casually, her right hand found itself on Light's knee, and her painted nails curled around it. "You don't strike me as that kind of guy, Light-kun. I read your records. You're enrolled as a freshmen in college. I don't believe for a moment that a handsome boy like you has never been to a proper party."

To her surprise and delight, Light didn't blush or anything. He shrugged and nodded. "That's true enough, though I hate saying such a thing when I'm being recorded on video cameras 24/7."

Merrie chuckled. She at least had deduced that regardless if Light Yagami was innocent, he wasn't pure. "You're sitting next to Wedy, the burglar goddess. You drank at a party. That's hardly anything to be ashamed of, and it doesn't mean you're Kira. Though I'll keep your secret and not tell your dear, morally-uptight father, if you want. So what's your favorite? Drink, that is. I'll find us some and you and I will have our own party."

"This doesn't mean that I drink regularly," he said rather tentatively. "And even if I wanted to drink now, I doubt that Ryuzaki would let me."

"No, I wouldn't," L snapped with surprising (but pleasing) irritation. He was clearly taking note of Merrie's hand on Light's leg. "And if you please, Wedy. Light-kun and I still have a lot of work to get done, and you are currently serving as nothing more than a distraction."

"But look at this poor boy!" Merrie said with sweet, sweet venom. The words she uttered were an excuse to put her other hand on Light, this one resting on his shoulder in a sort of, say, motherly fashion. She brought her face closer to his increasingly uncomfortable one as if she was contemplating him. "At the tender age of eighteen, should he be up this late? I'll tell you what, Ryuzaki. I'll take him off your hands. I'm not tired, so I'll... ah... keep an eye on your suspect for tonight while you stay here and work."

There it was - the color was mildly creeping into Light's cheeks. Smart kid apparently knew full well what she was implying.

"No," L said in firm monotone (a concealed snarl), turning entirely to the direction of Light and Merrie. "I hired you for your burglary skills alone. You are not trained as a detective, and because I am the leading authority of this case, the actions of my suspects need to be known to me first at all times."

"It's kind of you to offer," Light suddenly said, and to Merrie's incredulity, he took her hands in his own. He held her warm hands with slender fingers as he sat up straight and looked at her in the eyes. He gave a little smile, but the color in his cheeks had faded and his irises didn't so much as flicker. Now _he_ was the one leaning slightly forward, and like a young romantic, his eyes didn't for a split second leave her own, instead they locked in thorough captivation. "But I'm absolutely dedicated to this Kira case. I've been wrongly accused and I want more than anything to prove it, as well as capture the criminal. It's true that I'm tired, but that's a burden I'll gladly carry."

Was he... was_ he_ playing with _her_ now? What the hell?

Merrie's lips slightly parted, and she realized that she had underestimated this boy. Well, she _had_ noticed that he was attractive for his age-group, why hadn't she made the connection that he was clearly experienced in the ways of females? His words were too sugar coated, and he held her hands just too perfectly - not just a little experienced, she wouldn't be surprised if his virginity was long gone. Merrie usually liked pleasant surprises, but this was _awful_. If he was straight, then L's obsession would be only one-sided. Her malicious plans were being pissed on by the dogs of reality.

But no, she realized, standing up. Light turned back to his computer, but as he did so, his eyes flickered toward L, Quickly there, and then quickly back again. She hadn't made the connection that he was experienced with females before because he was blushing like a schoolgirl when she had teasingly joked earlier about him being L's love slave. Light _was_ obsessed with L. True, it was apparent now that he had likely been quite the ladies' man in school, but attraction to L was hardly like anything he would have experienced before. It was only logical that Light's repressed bisexuality was at least a possibility, her woman's intuition told her wisely. It had to be.

"Alright then, I'll leave you two to have your fun," she said with a shadowy, suggestive smile. "But Light, dear, just don't let that conniving detective take advantage of you. He knows too much to be trusted..."

The brunette tensed up a little, gluing his eyes to the report in his hands again. L didn't do anything at all, aside from reach for a handful of chocolate chips which he deposited into his mouth like cash in a bank. He made no visual reaction as he continued his computer work. If she had ever seen two men _not_ about to make love, these were them.

Well, damn it all, anyway!

She walked back to her room, without any booze and thoroughly discouraged. No, not true, in this frustration she found more determination than ever. She was _Wedy_, for God's sake. She was an goddess in both thievery and seduction, and she would use both talents to meet her objective. She had a mission. She grit her pearly teeth and tightened her flawless red lips, and she made a vow. Swearing by every deity that guarded love and sexuality that she could remember from childhood mythology, she would not give up until L and Light Yagami were screwing like rabbits in heat.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

Author's Notes: 

1. This was just an idea, because I really wanted to write a story about Wedy. Quite frankly, she's the only female in Death Note that I really like, and I like her a lot for the few lines that she gets to say before Kira offs her. On that note, because she's a relatively minor character (even if she's badass), I'm taking creative liberties with her personality and life. A lot of creative liberties.

2. Also this is... sort of the first intentionally humorish thing that I've published. Totally different from my usual style. People were complaining that my work is so angsty, so I wanted to write a fluff. Unfortunately this isn't fluff, but it's meant to be light-hearted for the most part... at least... yes, mostly light-hearted, let's leave it at that.

3. If I remember right, Wedy is actually from Colorado and Aiber is from France (and has a wife and son). But again, creative liberties, don't expect much else to be backed up with evidence from the anime/manga.

4. This also marks my first fic spelling L's alias as "Ryuzaki" instead of "Ryuuzaki". I've realized that this will probably be the official spelling, so, yeah.

5. This may or may not be updated soon. I haven't decided how much I like the idea yet.

I hope it wasn't too painful. Thanks for reading, anyway! -Serria


	2. Aphrodite

**PANDORA'S MISCHIEF: Part 2**

Disclaimer: Death Note, not mine. But let me have my fun.

**APHRODITE**

* * *

"Hi, Wedy." 

It was that puppy dog cop, what was his name, Matsuda. Merrie didn't even need to glance his way as she strode through the main room. She might be accused of flaunting her voluptuous femininity and emphatically causing the young policeman's eyes to travel to her ass, and there were those who might disapprove of this behavior (she assumed this was a small population, none of which she had met in person).

But it couldn't be helped. It was as natural as her live-in-the-spotlight nature. Both her alluring beauty and her flirtatious demeanor could be a curse when it came to captivating poor, hopeless men (and she was quite sure that this applied to women, too). In fact, she had told Aiber yesterday that if Kira needed a name _and_ a face to kill, she would never die because upon seeing her picture he would fall pathetically in love with her. L had shot her a nasty look and told her that such a hypothesis was foolish because the records showed that Kira had killed more attractive women than _she_ - Merrie took this barb as further evidence that L was homosexual.

Either way, it seemed as though L, esteemed detective that he was, had caught on to her peculiar attitude when she was alone with Light and him. Even if he had not figured out her intentions yet, he leered at her apprehensively whenever she leaned forward to whisper something into his suspect's ear - yes, it was quite obvious that Merrie was waltzing over to his foul side. But Merrie was gorgeous and she was exceedingly clever, and she wasn't worried about reversing that fact when she needed to. Even in the morning (which L had informed her was sometime _before_ noon) she was damned sure that she was looking titillating in her black tube top and tight pants. L himself would have to be impressed.

"Wedy, you're an idiot," L proclaimed. His morning greetings did not carry the same pleasant ambience as the hot coffee that was now pooling in a burning puddle across the floor.

Now, that monkey boy who could use with a bit (a lot) of concealer and tanned foundation had no right to say that. Yes, she had been the one to start up the instant coffee machine on the counter. She had actually bothered to set her alarm clock for some ungodly time - didn't even know that there was a seven o'clock _AM_ - and she thought she be the benevolent angel that she was and try out the coffee machine. She did it with chivalrous intentions, purely out of goodwill for her new co-workers and tribute to the resolution that they would capture Kira.

...Aren't those machines usually supposed to stop automatically?

Monkey Boy should be grateful that she was up before most of the task force had even arrived (fine by her, Daddy Yagami was always shooting her less-than-delighted looks that suggested he'd like to put her before a firing squad, and Mogi pointedly ignored her). Matsuda was the lone cop, tottering around like a star-struck school boy around the surveillance room, already cleaning up the mess on the floor after mumbling something that Merrie hadn't listened to. Light sat by the table reading the paper, and L was next to him, armed with a platter of high calorie doughnuts and glaring at her in the way that only a skeletal insomniac sitting like a gargoyle can glare.

"I was working," she excused herself gaily, stepping over the mess to the machine and pouring herself a mug of perfectly good scalding hot liquid. A few packets of Half-and-Half and she was good to go.

"You were painting your toenails," the detective chastised, holding a pastry in each hand as though they were the gavels and he was some Supreme Court Judge. It was a rather comical picture, or it would have been if the renegade chocolate on his lips against his ghostly skin hadn't given off the impression of vampirism.

Merrie didn't see the problem. "It's part of my profession to look presentable when I'm at work," she said easily, inhaling the thick aroma of coffee beans with pleasure. "My dearest employer may not understand, because he doesn't do much hands-on work, but when it comes to physical performance-"

"Wedy-san makes her living as a thief. She sneaks into buildings and robs them. At night. When everyone is sleeping. Her business is _not_ to be seen."

Quite. He was telling her this... why?

Merrie smiled sweetly and went over to the table, sliding right on top of it and crossed her legs, waxed thigh over waxed thigh, in a comfortable sitting position. Her hand crept forward to L's doughnuts and, obliviously pretending that she did not notice the venom in his glare, brought one to her mouth and licked at it delicately. "I don't think Ryuzaki quite understands the art of burglary. The Zen, if you will."

"Thievery is no art. It's as mathematical as a science, and it is a process of careful calculations and preparations," came a scoffing answer, and he hunched over to his doughnuts for preferred company, making a show of edging the plate closer to his own body and farther from Merrie. "Also, you're wasting time. Please go do something productive."

Had he really just dismissed her and insulted her at the same time? Something productive, her ass! Her well-toned ass! "Light-kun, sweetie?" she called across the table. She waited until he lowered the paper and looked at her politely. "You're an adolescent male. More, shall we say, _normal_ than the other male in this room."

"Wedy-san, you've forgotten about me..." came the faint voice of what's-his-name, Matsuda.

"If I were to rob you in the dead of the night, and you woke up and found me," she continued, capturing Light's gaze with an air of seduction. "What would you do if I was wearing nothing but lingerie?"

"Err..." He blinked his large almond-shaped eyes as L watched with patient irritation. "I don't know?"

"Exactly! My point exactly, honey." Merrie bit into her doughnut and was certain to cast L a look of superiority. "If I may be so blunt, I'm an attractive woman. If I were some ugly, lanky vagabond, my victims would be sure to react aggressively and rapidly. But if I cherish my appearance, I buy myself at least an extra minute, depending on who I am robbing. That's precisely what we call artful _preparation._"

"I've also heard it defined as 'prostitution'," L offered.

"Hmm." She curled her lips into a twisted smile at L, and raised a free hand to her blonde locks which she twirled with manicured fingers. Then she turned back to Light, who had tried to escape from the conversation back into the newspaper. "Light-kun, what would you do if a prostitute, say, one who looks _just like me_ came into your house in the dead of the night, wearing nothing but lingerie?"

"Uhh..."

"_Wedy-san_." That monotonous tone was clearly perturbed. Fabulous. Annoyance seemed to be the only emotion that affected his deadpan disposition, but as such it made Merrie suggest that he was not, in fact, an android. "The only way that you are getting a paycheck is if you _work_."

"Yeah?" Merrie couldn't help it, it wasn't her fault, it was really just in her nature- "Ryuzaki, if I showed up in _your_ house in the middle of the night wearing nothing but lingerie, how big would my paycheck be?"

A good thing that Merrie was so smart - she knew when it wasn't dishonorable to retreat. She immediately slid off the table and trotted away, quite certain that L had every intention of kicking her.

Really, how barbaric. No one seemed to have any class around here.

* * *

When Merrie was doing business in public places, a common obstacle that she had to bypass was a metal detector. This had been troublesome early in her career because she liked to carry a modest selection of knives, guns, keys, pick-locks, switchblades and occasionally grenades under her tight black leather outfit. She had long since mastered the art of being fully armed and loaded while walking through a mall - things could be strapped her legs, in her boots, under her hat, in her bra. She successfully made everything look natural - in fact, the overall physical effect was giving her an image of being particularly well-endowed. But metal detectors, being cruel and mechanic, were completely resistant to her perfected womanly charms. 

Many burglars conveniently avoided the things that opposed them and unfashionably hid in the shadows. They contented themselves to crawling around security like high school gaming nerds hid from the football team. As far as she was concerned, Merrie was a Hollywood starlet, not some insect taking cover in the dirt. She had the assets (in all definitions of the word) that separated petty thieves from masterminds. She sought instead to conquer what she didn't understand, and not cease until it was screaming "Wedy!" with the rest of the audience.

She studied her victims and she learned. A metal detector did its detecting through electromagnetic induction, she found out. In a nutshell it produced an alternating magnetic field through use of an oscillator. Metals are electronically conductive, so the eddy currents in the coil are induced. Foreign metals are magnetometers, and their presence creates a change in the field - therefore leading to detection.

Easy enough to bypass, she thought as she did her initial public scouting of the top business buildings suspects to be affiliated with Kira. One just had to _not_ create an alternate magnetic field, or at least substantially reduce the current released. The answer was a technology called a "Discriminator", another coil that essentially balances off the detector's offense, creating a neutral zone that is the overlapping of opposition. This had been developed by big name government organizations itself with the intention of getting the metal detectors to only detect certain _types_ of metal - such as gold or precious minerals. Merrie used it to win.

This applied to the building L had sent her to investigate. The lobby of Yotsuba looked normal enough. She took mental notes of the video cameras in the area, as well as more reliable pictures on her mini-camera installed in her sunglasses, and then left to call it a day. The real work would start at night instead, when the building was locked and dark.

Yeah, she thought as she arrived back at headquarters. Metal detectors were one obstacle that she had dominated. Making a match between her employer and his prime suspect was no different. L was the oscillator, churning to his own metallic tune. Light was a metal of high frequency - upon crossing under Light's machinery, the alarm had sounded. The result was a handcuff to bind them together at all times.

But when L insisted that the reason was to monitor Light's criminal actions, she was all for calling that bullshit. Light made L's radar go off because he made something else _come on_.

"What's with the sly look?" Aiber asked her, greeting her at one of the entry rooms that connected to the main headquarters directly passed the last of the security. Not like 'security' meant much to her. Even though she had all the necessary access codes, the fact that she had the ability to bypass it like a phantom meant something - when one has power, one uses it. As such, even though she knew it pissed off L and Watari, she wormed her way into the headquarters undetected.

"I'm a sly girl," she responded, fluttering long lashes. "What are you reading?"

Aiber was sitting comfortably on a red cushioned couch, looking quite charming in his pinstripe three-thousand-dollar suit. With one hand, he delicately held a glass of red wine, which he absentmindedly swirled in his grip. The other hand held up, by the spine, a thick brown book... Hang on, _what_ was that he was drinking?

"I'm touching up on the official laws of this country when it comes to economic involvement," he answered. "Kira seems to be affiliated with Yotsuba, as you know, or possibly another company that simultaneously benefits when Yotsuba benefits. In order for me to put my talents to work, I'm going to con back-up evidence. Just in case we need an official warrant if we infiltrate the office building."

"Ah, and here I thought a French man would be reading poetry or romance novels." She took off her striped designer's coat, hanging it up carelessly on a hook on the wall, all while giving Aiber a pointedly critical look.

"French men are the physical embodiment of such luxuries. We _wrote_ them, my fair Aphrodite, why should we read them, too?"

"Aphrodite, eh?" Merrie chuckled with sophistication. "Out of all the love goddesses in the world?"

"I figured that Greek mythology was your favorite," Aiber explained mellowly. "They're wild, and lower themselves to leave the paradise of Mount Olympus just to mettle with the mortals. They're a living soap opera."

"You're a smart man. The Greek gods are my favorite, though no disrespect is meant to any other flock." Merrie leaned forward, flaunting herself into Aiber's face, who raised an eyebrow at the view. She wrapped her hand around Aiber's wine glass during his distraction, and successfully burgled it away. Thievery was a rewarding field of professionalism, no matter what the kid's cartoons said. She lifted the glass to her lips and tilted it, feeling the alcohol burning against her tongue and warming her throat. "Mm... how did you smuggle this booze passed L? He told me that if I drank, he wouldn't pay me."

"Smuggle it in? What could you mean, _mon chéri?_" He shooed her away with a hand, avoiding her breasts, and smoothly recaptured his glass. "L gave me a few bottles of fine wine, complimentary with the room."

She stared, her lips parting with disbelief. "You're kidding me."

"Would I lie?"

"You're both a professional con-man and French. Of course you'd lie." Distraught, she stood up straight, tearing off her sunglasses in a swift movement. "But I believe you. By mighty Hera's wrath, I'm going to murder that skinny brat."

Aiber smirked, rubbing the golden stubble on his chin with a free hand - the hand with the stupid wedding ring. "There's an interesting tactic. I'm sure his untimely death would result in Wedy having enough fine champagne to keep her drunk and happy for years. And with L out of the way, you could take the Yagami boy for yourself."

Merrie was then reminded of the more serious business that had to be discussed - namely, Light and L's sexual orientations. "I won't kill him if he screws Light," she said, as if casting a bargain. "Well then, you've had all day. Are they gay?"

"Believe it or not, I've been working in the way that L hired me for. I'll help you on my free time, and I can't do that until I finish this book."

"I'm quite displeased."

"Don't give me that look. I may be French, but I'm not a woman." Aiber finished off the remainder of his wine, and then lowered his voice. "I will tell you one thing, though. There is one factor that you don't know of, let's call it 'x' for now. I would say that you should worry about it, but knowing you, you'll relish the challenge. Want to know what it is?"

Merrie was a curious woman. But more than that she had all the pride of a pampered house-cat, and she smiled sweetly with eyes that vigorously made a declaration. "Do you know who I am, Aiber?"

She didn't wait for him to respond, and ignored the obvious look that he cast her.

"I'm Wedy, goddess of the criminal world. All the _world_ is my stage, and all the x-factors merely players."

As she stormed out of the room with her head held high, Aiber saluted her with his empty glass. Merrie found this tribute to be quite appropriate. She went to go find her victims, and like any other challenge, she was happy to laugh in the face of any precious little _x-factor._

* * *

"How did it go, Wedy-san?" 

It was Light who asked this as she waltzed into the room. What a sweetheart, glancing behind at her with thoughtful chocolate eyes. A callous booze-teasing bastard like L didn't really deserve such a nice pretty boy, by the gods, he was _damned_ lucky they were soul mates. There sat L by a keyboard now, his mouth full of what looked like either pink marshmallows or some new form of fungi, either way Merrie wished upon him the most fierce of belly-aches.

"It went lovely, as usual," Merrie said. After beaming warmly toward the Kira suspect, her face changed. She briskly pushed down her large sunglasses to hide the psychic death rays that she was currently envisioning her irises shooting out into the back of L's scruffy neck. Even though Monkey Boy's back was to her, she could just tell that he knew she was glaring at him. "Oh, Ryuzaki, I have a somewhat amusing story for you. Mr. Aiber was kind enough to offer me the sweetest drink on my way back in."

L cleared his throat. "If Wedy-san will please refrain from broadcasting her sexual exploits?"

...Oh, he _didn't_.

Oh she was going to castrate that son of a-

"Ryuzaki!" Soichiro Yagami growled patronizingly, the wrinkles in his forward deepening into thick trenches. He had been standing beside the row of computers where L was perched on a swivel chair at, and he spun the chair around with his hand, shaking a finger crossly. "Don't ever say such crude things in the presence of a woman!"

Well, how about that? Daddy Yagami was coming to her rescue. Maybe she could get along with him after all.

"Even if she is nothing more than a wicked common criminal."

... Charming. 'Common', did he say? Common? Was the old coot _blind_? Daddy Yagami needed to get laid, he clearly was suffering sexual frustrations. Or he was gay. Or both. Maybe homosexuality was genetic? Then for sure Light also had to be gay.

"My apologies, Wedy-san." L didn't even turn his neck, like a wide-eyed owl he shifted his entire body and stared at her rigidly. He raised his hands up to rest on his knees while blankly studying her. "I did not intend to sound crude, but I was merely being honest. Perhaps if Wedy has concerns she should voice them outright, instead of making roundabout implications that could be interpreted in an incorrect manner in the way that I've judged as an interpretation of your character."

Soichiro nodded in satisfaction, apparently lost passed the 'my apologies' bit, and Merrie was fuming. The arrogant little imp! What kind of luck _was_ this, to find out that the great L was not a dark and handsome prince for the seducing, but a cocky know-it-all insomniac who could have passed for a heroin addict. And what did he mean, 'interpretation of her character'? Was he implying that she was a slut or something?

Yes, very mature, Monkey Boy.

"Wedy, I would appreciate a marked floor plan of the Yotsuba building, where precisely you placed any bugs in the lobby and any suspicious activity that you feel we should be keeping an eye on."

Oh, he wanted suspicious activity, did he? He could have it. In bulk.

Her eyes shifted from the candy-chomping gargoyle and to Light, who was seated to his right. Close enough so that the chain was slack and rested like a relaxed snake on the floor, but far enough away so that the snake wasn't coiled. Light, in contrast to his unhygienic partner, was looking very smart and handsome in a nice white button-down shirt that loosely draped over his slim chest. His hair even appeared to be clean and void of any sweat or grease, though how he had persuaded the fanatical detective to let him shower was beyond Merrie's scope of knowledge.

Merrie definitely wanted revenge on L again, but not even she was daring enough to hit on the pretty boy with his bear-like father standing right next to him (now what kind of reverse gender roles was this?). It could wait a bit longer. Soichiro would go home at eleven o'clock like he did most nights, and Light and L would be working for another three hours at least, a factor dependent entirely on how merciful the satanic investigator was feeling. Which usually meant five hours.

But three hours was more than enough, she realized with a small grin, to piss off L and take one step closer to getting him to look at Light the same way that he eyeballed German chocolate pastries. Tonight, she would execute the plan that was suddenly completely formulated in her deviously clever brain. So crafty was she that Merrie was certain even the conniving detective might view her as a threat - and that was_ precisely_ what she wanted.

* * *

There were some nights when it just felt like the gods were giving Merrie the recognition that she deserved. By this, she concluded that Aphrodite favored these two almost-lovers, and Merrie, well, she was a priestess doing her duty to serve Love. Everything went perfectly. The task force was gone without a trace and she could finally put her fool-proof plan into action. True, she was wearing a little more than just lingerie, but it was midnight, the boys were completely alone, and Merrie was armed with a tall glass of justice, mixed with the delicacy that was fermented sugar.. 

"Alcohol, Wedy-san?" L glanced her way with cavillous ebony eyes, sliding a red and white peppermint stick between his pallid lips.

"No, darling. Just grape juice," she said with a sophisticated chortle, holding up her mostly full glass as though she were saluting him. The wine swirled around like a beacon of hope, her dearest friend and favorite weapon. Merrie's head shifted, latching a gaze onto the younger youth like a relentlessly attracting magnet. "Hey, Light. Are you thirsty?"

Before Light could answer, L was speaking again. "No, Light-kun is not thirsty for that. He would rather prove his innocence by working with dedication, and alcohol would clearly yield the opposite results."

"Aw, Ryuzaki," Merrie grinned, approaching Light and curling a hand around his shoulder. "When it's all said and done, you just want to prove that Light is Kira, right?"

She felt Light go rigid under her hand, and again, L quickly interrupted any potential answer in his quietly dominating voice. "I want to find Kira. It's unfortunate, but Light-kun is still my prime suspect. I hope that I am mistaken."

"Nah. No you don't," Merrie answered, patting Light comfortingly, and her fingers made themselves comfortable around the nape of his neck. "Ryuzaki wants to keep Light-kun in chains for the rest of eternity. And who knows what incriminating things he'll say if I get him drunk?"

"I do not desire that Yagami-kun be incarcerated long-term," L argued stiffly, apparently annoyed enough to bother responding. "I regret if that has to be the case, however, I value the safety-"

"Yeah, yeah," Merrie purred, lowering her chin and leaning forward as if she were telling some secret without bothering to whisper. She fluttered her eyelashes seductively like only an American starlet can. "I'm in absolute agreement with you, Ryuzaki - he does look adorable as hell in handcuffs."

"What? Wedy!" Unable to contain himself, Light was flushing like a schoolboy. It was clear that he did not like where this conversation was going - could be pride for his sexuality, could be embarrassment, _could_ be that he was madly in love with the gangly detective. He turned around to glare at the burglar as well as bat her intrusive hand away from his neck.

Just as planned.

Merrie wasn't even to the point of being tipsy, but she was familiar enough with the experience to act up on it. She tottered, and in response to Light's aggressive movements she let the hand that held the glass slip. The glass fell straight onto his shoulder, and slid into his lap. There was a _splash_, and a _crash_ as the vessel shattered against the floor. Even L turned to investigate the noise and the small gasp that Light emitted. Bright purple liquid flowed down Light's white button-down shirt in a swirl of contrasting color.

"Oh, dear!" Merrie lamented apologetically, putting one startled hand over her mouth in acting skills that rivaled her Broadway sister's. "Oh, Light, how very clumsy of me. I feel absolutely dreadful! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to let my hand slip. That was terrible."

"It's... it's okay, Wedy," Light said, conjuring up an appropriate amount of sincerity. "It's my fault, too. Don't worry about it."

"No, no, I've gone and ruined your nice shirt, and I know how poor you are, sweetie. Ah, oh, middle-class, I mean. Here, let me help." Snatching a napkin from the counter, she licked it like a kitten with her tongue and began dabbing his shirt.

The adolescent was skeptical, retreating backwards only to be met by the back of his chair. "I don't think that will help."

"You're right, honey." Merrie leaned in to him, narrowing her eyes and giving him a candied expression of benign sweetness. "We'll have to have it washed and bleached, and the sooner the better before it stains. Let me help you."

She reached to the buttons, taking hold of them with her long fingers, and pretended to exert considerable effort in popping it through. When Light protested, mumbling something about how he would do it later, and himself, she answered incessantly, "No, it's my fault, let me do it. I'm just at an awkward position..."

And then she lowered herself on the most satisfying, if unwilling, chair possible - his lap. Smiling with the same devilish sweetness, she leaned into him, undoing one button at a time as he sat there uncomfortably and without an escape. She was more than happy that after each trial of the fabric, more of the teen's chest was exposed. Yes, she reminded herself with discipline, he was only eighteen, but that was still legal in Japan, right? His skin was a fair golden color, and his torso was long and slim. Thin, yes, but not grossly skinny - he had tight muscles strung under that soft coating. A springy athletic body, worthy of enduring underwear photoshoots if he ever decided to pursue a career in the fashion industry.

Not that L would be sympathetic toward the idea of letting his prime suspect go somewhere that wasn't in a five-foot radius of him. Though if Wedy had her way - and she was a girl who didn't settle for anything less - Light would indeed be modeling in his boxers, even if it was for a more _private_ audience.

"Wedy..." a charming little voice from beside them growled, low and dangerous like a skeletal panda bear in heat.

It was L of course, and Merrie didn't even turn his way. She already could feel the angry glint in his eye, and she relished that. He would also be looking at the work of art she had just uncovered, tragically hidden so long under cotton clothing. Merrie shifted her weight so that she was violating Light's lap even more, and then she looked up into his blushing face. Her hands traveled to his shoulders where she gently pushed the fabric so it would be off of his lotion-smooth skin.

"Wedy, I highly suggest that you remove yourself from Light Yagami instantly."

"Should I?" Merrie murmured teasingly, resisting the urge to let her eyes flicker in his direction. _Are you watching this, L? Are you jealous, L? Is that a bulge in your pants, L?_ She brought her face closer to Light's as she continued to slide off the shirt, through his arms. Of course, there was the annoying problem of the handcuff chain that would actually dismiss any effort to fully separate the article of clothing from the boy, however, she wasn't actually concerned about that at all. No, no, all she wanted right now was to wrap her arms around this tight warmth.

'Tight warmth' being in reference to his waist. Though that _other_ tight warmth might be fun to play with, too.

The cold reprimand came: "You should. I admonish you that this unprofessional behavior won't be beneficial to you in the end."

Merrie grinned, tightening her fingers around Light's back. Without the shirt, she could feel his shoulder blades. When he squirmed slightly from under her, she tightened the grip. "I'm just making up for a mistake that I've made, Ryuzaki. That's all..."

"Well, you just made another one."

"Huh?" Lovely, was he threatening her? If that was all it took to get L to punch her, then this game was easier than she thought. Was L going to shove her off, plant his lips into his soul mate's, finish the job of unclothing him, and-

"HAAARGH!"

There was a high pitched scream, as terrible as a crack-addict banshee who had just been denied the aforementioned crack.

"_Who the hell are you, and why the fuck are you on Misa's Light?!_"

Instantly, Merrie turned to the shrieking new voice. It was a tiny blonde girl that could have been a goddamned ten-foot Doberman for how murderous she was looking right now. A powdered face was distorted into an ugly snarl, and yellow pigtails seemed to stand on end like the hair on a hissing cat's back. Brandishing her fingernails like ten sharpened butcher knives, she was running forward with what appeared to be the full intent of slicing Merrie to bloody shreds.

Aha. So _this_ was the x-factor.

_To Be Continued. . . _

* * *

Author's Notes: 

1. So you know how you can edit a story's information, and now you can select from a list who the two biggest characters in your story are, for search purposes? Wedy totally is NOT on that list. How did she not make the cut? She's so amazing... I'm admittedly a bit heart-broken.

2. "All the world is my stage..." This is Wedy's version of the Shakespeare verse: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."

3. "Hera's Wrath": Hera is the Queen of the Greek Gods, and Zeus's wife. Zeus is always having affairs with other women, and Hera, who is normally somewhat benevolent, is also a jealous hell-hath-no-fury-like-a-woman-scorned bitch.

4. Yay, we all learned something about metal detectors! Now your fanfiction time is educational!

5. My Wedy represents all of us fangirls who wish that L and Light could stop it with the dog-eat-dog crap and start snogging already. As such, this fic will contain yaoi. 

Thank you for enduring, all of you survivors! Cheers, and my love to all of you who didn't die in the process. -Serria


	3. Hera

**PANDORA'S MISCHIEF: Part 3**

Disclaimer: TACOS?! WHERE?! THEY'RE MINE. I MADE THEM!

**HERA**

* * *

"_What the hell are you doing on Misa's Light?!"_

...Oops.

Merrie blinked as the blonde incubus charged forward, her fangs bared and her pigtails bouncing with mad frenzy. The situation was even more befuddling because she was dressed in full-fledged Gothic Lolita, with black frills and the blackest of eye makeup that, in the darkness of the computer room at midnight, made her look almost as much like a sinister raccoon as L himself. To be more precise, a sinister raccoon with a lethal case of PMS. Even the proud Merrie Kenwood had to admit that she hadn't been quite this intimidated since the time a militant PETA organization hired her to liberate starving greyhounds.

It might have been the alcohol in her system that kept her sitting on Light Yagami's lap and staring, delaying any reaction to her upcoming doom.

At least, at first it was the alcohol.

Then it was more so a kind of maniacal obstinance. The sort of insanity that only an outraged female in love can exert - which might have made sense, except she wasn't in love. But she was certainly quite outraged that this eighty pound Gothic twit had just a) claimed Light Yagami as her own, and b) was still running forward with clear homicidal intent. And c) Aiber wasn't lying about the god damned x-factor, and d) why the _hell_ weren't L and Light screwing yet? And e) L was looking like a pompous sadist as he was watching this event occur, wide-eyed and a psychotic little smile on his pallid face.

And f) for _fuck, this chick was really going to kill her!_

When the demon girl, who had already branded herself as 'Misa', reached her, Merrie slid off of Light's lap at the last hair of a second to dodge a fistful of flailing fingernails. She slipped to the other side of Light's chair, using the flustered object of battle himself as a protective barrier. Merrie didn't like that situation either, because this put her right between the swivel chairs of Light and L, and having her back toward the latter was about as comforting as a schizophrenic therapist.

"Misa, please calm down!" Light insisted, looking quite distressed as he sat up and beseeched to the she-devil. "Wedy's drunk, and she was only helping me-"

"Wedy, huh?!" The girl hissed, leaning forward and baring a mouth of pearly-white fangs. "I'm going to kill you, Wedy!"

"Don't say that, Amane-san," L chose to put in, obviously very morbidly entertained by the whole issue. He was throwing generous handfuls of chocolate chips into his mouth as though they were popcorn. "You are currently being observed for suspicious Kira related behavior, and though I'm sure you do not seriously mean such a thing, it is incriminating to you."

"I did too mean such a thing!" Misa howled, wrapping thin, manicured fingers around Light's arm in what looked like a vice grip more suitable for a pair of pliers. "No one touches Misa's Light except for Misa!"

This was a problem. For being less than five feet tall and pencil skinny, this Misa Amane was a big fucking problem. Merrie needed to worm her way out of this one, preferably before she had to resort to cat fighting, or shooting Blondie in the face. L would probably cut her paycheck if she killed one of his suspects. Or worse – let it slip to Daddy Yagami that the thief had been flirting with his precious little prince. And really, Merrie valued her exquisite collection of functioning organs.

"Misa-chan," Merrie cooed out loud, still with one hand on Light's shoulder. She went as far as patting it affectionately, as though she were on very friendly terms with the boy. When dealing with rabid animals, it was best not to express any kind of fear. Fear was fuel to the fire of the bloodthirsty. "I do believe you misunderstand this situation entirely. You walked in on quite a bad time."

"Bad time?! You were trying to rape my boyfriend!"

Pardon, _rape him_? Yeah, right. As they say, it's not rape if they are willing. And she was Merrie Kenwood, for Christ's sake, who wasn't willing? (But she didn't say that out loud. Nor did she say ''I'm trying to make your boyfriend gay'', because that didn't seem as though it would help matters, and truth be told Merrie was far too femininely alluring for that to be a believable excuse anyway. ) And... what the hell? Boyfriend?

"I assure you that I'm not at all sexually interested in Yagami-kun," Merrie stressed with a benevolent smile plastered on her face. "Nor am I at all sexually interested in anyone like him."

L snorted, Light blinked, and Misa growled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"_I'm a lesbian_."

Silence.

Heavy, thick, uncomfortable, _hil-_fucking_-larious_ silence, as her assorted variety of an audience took in the words that Merrie had chosen to utter.

Light blinked again, Misa looked overcome with shock. Merrie had her back to Panda Face so she couldn't see what expression he had decided to contort his pointed features into in response (if he had even bothered to expend such energy as to humanly put on display his high-level cognition), but she strategically stepped to the side so that her ass was blocking him from giving away undesirable answers to the other two.

"Oh," Misa finally gave in, retracting her claws. "Um... oh."

Sometimes her intelligence astounded even her. Merrie chuckled as she retreated toward the hallways, cheerfully announcing that it was time for bed and that she would see them all bright and early tomorrow morning.

X-factor threat? Neutralized.

* * *

But Merrie Kenwood had no intention of going to bed. Ass emancipated from the frying pan or not, this night was _not_ a success. 

Now that immediate threat of danger had passed and Hades was no longer examining her name in his reservation book for Hell, one very disturbing notion had made itself comprehensive. To put it eloquently, it went somewhere along the lines of _is Goldenboy actually the property of that prepubescent Barbie?_ and to put it in a less eloquent way, but that better illustrated Merrie's feelings, it was more in the realm of _what in the name of Zeus's sovereign manhood was _that?

And because she was such an awesome cat burglar and this issue had far exceeded the realm of mere curiosity, she never actually left. She took a few steps into the darkness of the hallway, letting the noise of her footsteps pattering trail off, and then with skillful silence she pressed her palms against one wall, and kicked her feet to the other. Being a relatively tall women, if she stretched her torso with enough effort this task wasn't difficult. When the soles of her feet were planted against the opposite side of the hallway, she climbed with both sets of limbs in the opposite direction of gravity. At the ceiling, most of her body was covered by the small ceiling barricade of the entry way, and she quietly poked her head down and through the door way.

L would need fucking ESP to sense her now.

The Dynamic Justice Duo had finally peeled the I-Get-In-The-Way-Of-Everything Misa-chan off of Light and sent her to bed. Merrie witnessed the girl lean forward to Light, giggle maniacally, and smash perked lips against his cheek. Light seemed mainly unresponsive, but he bid her a good night. (Merrie held her breath as Misa passed through the corridor under her, and damned if the demonic siren wasn't lucky that Merrie had been raised with class – or she might've coughed up a nice fat loogie and let it fall on that pretty blonde head.) Charming, it really was, that L failed to mention that the Kira Investigation Headquarters was haunted by Satan-ette, but Merrie was willing to be a good sport and forgive the panda because she was exceedingly annoyed and eager to know the truth of Light's relationship status.

"That was interesting," Light remarked slowly, turning his swivel chair to face L.

"My preference in word of description would be 'irritating'," L stiffly responded, his hands immediately lifting to his keyboard and his fingers plucking letters at probably ten thousand words a second. "That was an unproductive waste of sixteen minutes."

"It wasn't necessarily a waste," the adolescent reasoned, tilting his head thoughtfully toward the detective. Locks of hair that reflected almost a warm chestnut hue against the glow of the computer monitors framed his focused, and so far, calm, eyes. "You know, it's a healthy study habit to take periodical breaks from work. This gives the mind a chance to relax, and thus increases reasoning abilities thereafter."

L's eyelids dropped under the weight of thin eyebrows and they shifted slightly toward the suspect. Something about that look was definitely a glare, even if it was as ambiguous as always. "In which case, I hope Yagami-kun is very relaxed after that particular treatment."

"I didn't say that." Light's brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. "That's not what I meant. I was just trying to be optimistic."

The detective studied his young companion. A finger had risen from the keyboard and hooked around his lower lip. Then, without warning, the accusation drawled out: "You're using optimism to justify injustice. I'm more inclined to think that you share Kira's traits."

Light's response was delayed as he stared at his captor. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Kira is murdering the masses under the optimistic excuse of a better future without crime. Light-kun allows two blonde idiots to monopolize our valuable investigation time under the optimistic excuse of better reasoning ability."

The adolescent stared, as though he couldn't quite believe that L had made such a batshit absurd connection. (Merrie conjectured that he was also probably displeased that L had called the greatest and most sexy thief of all time an idiot.) Then he shook his head incredulously, turning back to his monitor. "I'm never going to be free again. You'll be the reason that I'm either locked in jail, or locked in a mental hospital."

L, the insensitive spawn of Khaos that he was, was ninety-eight percent immune to that pesky curse called a 'conscience'. His face was completely blank as he grabbed a sugary confectionery from a plate by his keyboard and held it out to his companion. "Do you want a cookie?"

If that's what L called flirting... he sucked major dick.

Or didn't. Wouldn't get to. Whatever.

* * *

There was an investigation to be done. 

Discreetly, Aiber had handed Merrie L's case profile of Satanette. The not-so-thrilled look on the French man's face was probably because he was also concerned with the budding of Aphrodite's true-love blossoms and _probably_ had nothing to do with the fact that Merrie had awoken him at three in the morning, post-eavesdropping enterprise, and demanded that he retrieve all the information he could get from L on this Misa _thing, _because L would never entrust her with such confidential information because he was a malevolent bastard, and if Aiber didn't do this Merrie would never speak to him again, also, the gods thrust their curses upon his pitiful soul in great abundance.

Well, the silver-tongued bastard could mope if he wanted about women being the cause of original sin by clawing at the forbidden Fruit of Knowledge and that for their guilt they ought to conduct their behavior with submissiveness and humility (especially in the presence of a man). But somehow, using his vast personality-exploiting con-artist skills, the next morning Aiber had successfully acquired the file from L. Merrie had witnessed the whole pathetic scene with her own, sleep-crusted eyes:

"_Ryuzaki, how is your research going?" Aiber asked cordially, walking over to the breakfast table where L was manipulating a thick stack of papers strewn in a mess on the tablecloth with one hand, and manipulating a double chocolate-chunk brownie with the other. _

_(The chocolate hand was the one with the handcuff connecting him to Light, Merrie noted in her half-conscious state. This was definitely symbolic of... something.)_

"_Things are progressing. I know if we keep at it, justice will soon prevail," L answered, giving Aiber this dopey little smile and a thumbs-up sign, as though he had the steadfast purity of a socially retarded Power Ranger._

"_I'm glad to hear it. I do hope this case will be wrapped up as soon as possible – you can imagine how unsettling Kira is to respectable con-men like myself," Aiber said in a way that was merely conversational. One would have thought the man was discussing football and not supernatural megalomaniacs, but really Merrie supposed that to underworld superstars such as themselves there was hardly a difference. _

_L blinked. He rolled his onyx eyes upward to the ceiling and put a chocolate covered finger to his bottom lip, like he were in preschool and was imagining very hard. "Ah, yes. It's a terrible feeling," he concluded mournfully._

_Merrie wasn't quite sure if she was awake anymore, or why, by Pandora's Box was L pretending he wasn't a ruthless and uncivilized lunatic with an oral fixation? Well, okay, he wasn't hiding the 'uncivilized' part, or the oral fixation. Just his inner evil. Damn it anyway, but understanding the detective was way too complicated a thought process for Merrie's very single-tracked morning brain. Instead she concentrated on, from her sofa a safe distance away, the sleepy Light Yagami eating what looked like the Japanese equivalent of Coco Puffs while fiercely solving the newspaper's daily SuDoku – for whatever reason, that image was less disturbing._

_Focus on the broad issue overtook her again when Aiber suddenly put very blatantly, "By the way, Ryuzaki, can I have a look at Misa Amane's case file?"_

"_Ah, certainly," the cretin responded. His left thumb and forefinger picked up a stapled packet from the pile as though he were a crane machine, and ever-so-compliantly, he entrusted the information to his hired outlaw._

Ye gods. And Aiber had told her that she was delusional when she claimed that Panda Face was picking favorites. Well, cracking open that can of worms would have to wait until Merrie didn't have more exciting ways to amuse herself or wanted an excuse to eat chocolate. Instead of being so counterproductive, she crammed her bitterness to the furthermost depths of her skull and held up the more important issue at stake.

Misa Amane. Twenty (_holy shit!_) years old. Seventy-nine pounds, four foot eleven.

Occupation: model

Current status: Kira suspect

Fabulous. Yet another Kira suspect that the investigation unit kept locked up in this building. Then there was the _third Kira_ somewhere in Yotsuba's employment. L seemed to have made a hobby of collecting Kiras like Pokémon cards. Gotta catch 'em all! ...Not for the first time was Merrie immensely glad that her innermost thoughts were not narrated out loud. Actually... not for the last time, either.

On an optimistic note, out of all the Kira suspects in the world, breeding and prosperous that they appeared to be, it was the Apollo-favored Golden boy, Light Yagami, who L had opted to keep collared, leashed and within screwing distance at all times. Amidst these troubled times, it was good to know that the detective hadn't succumbed to Satanette's devilish charms, and apparently the task force kept _that _demon sealed away in a locked room at the times when she wasn't out at a photo shoot with Matsuda acting as her agent. However, the dark pessimist inherent in Merrie any hour before noon was very much examining the fact that the file listed Misa's romantic status as 'in a relationship.'

"You want to know if the Yagami kid is actually dating Misa Amane?" Aiber asked her in accent-laced English over morning (or whatever you call seven AM?) coffee. The con-man was comfortably sitting on the red sofa, one arm resting along the back and the other claiming his steaming, ceramic mug. He looked so damned fine in his purple button-down and dark slacks, so at ease and comfortable in this most ungodly hour. Merrie wanted to kill him for being a morning person. Or screw him, as soon as this caffeine jump started her groggy brain. Or both, except the sex would have to come first, because...

Fuck mornings. Fuck them.

"Yes, that's precisely what I want to know," she huffed, taking a liberal swig of the burning coffee.

"Here is a thought of mine, _mon ch_é_rie_, for you to take or leave. A suggestion, if you will." Aiber paused for dramatic effect, lifting the mug to his lips and taking a small sip. A tiny smile contorted his entire face into taunting amusement. "You could... _ask him_."

Merrie glared. "Are you mocking me?"

"Ah, I love Wedy in the morning! My beauteous, if cranky, goddess Hera," he joked. "She is the Queen, the safe-keeper of marriage and true love. Yet how dangerously jealous she becomes when competition arises!"

"Consider what I am saying now a very witty death threat, except at the moment you really aren't worth exerting the mental effort to actually think of one."

Aiber chuckled. "All I'm saying is, as a thief I believe you're somewhat antisocial. I'm a con-man, and I have no quarrels with dealing directly with people. You don't need to sneak around all the time, it's quite okay to be blunt and say what you want to get what you want."

Merrie slammed her mug down on the coffee table and gave him a look as though he had just committed heresy. He might as well have called her A-cup. "Antisocial? I'm antisocial?"

"Well, if not, go on. Light is sitting over there, reading the paper. Go up to him and ask him if he's dating the girl."

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't give a damn!" she proclaimed exuberantly. "I don't care about Misa Amane. Light could be dating Zeus Almighty for all I care. That's not going to stop me from winning this!"

As if in divine response to this blasphemous statement, Zeus saw fit to let this outburst ring loudly throughout the area. A tenor boy's voice from across the room called out, "Wedy-san? Pardon, did you say my name?"

Merrie ignored the French smirk that was cast her way at that moment and dismissed the suspect breezily. "No, honey. I said 'Light' – but in English that's just a normal word."

''He's fluent in English, my exquisitely delicate half-wit,'' Aiber remarked dryly. ''And he was _named_ after that English word.''

''Don't call me names, fathead.''

Aiber smiled goodnaturedly, leaning lazily back into the cushions of the sofa. "Ah, no one ever claimed that Hera ruled over morning eloquence. Or any eloquence, for that matter."

Honestly, was Merrie the only one with some inkling of sophistication in this building? By the gods, they really had more important things to worry about!

"She's too old for him!" she started again on the aforementioned 'important things'. "In America we have a word for people like Misa Amane – _statutory rapist_!"

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, she's probably Kira."

"Clearly."

"Light is young and vulnerable. He needs a law-enforcing man like L to protect him against sexual predators such as her."

"You're saying this with a straight face."

"That's because I'm not joking. Besides, being an educated detective, L has more credible expertise at human anatomy than _she _does, so he can probably give Light-"

"You're done now."

* * *

Antisocial, he said. Antisocial, her foot! Her well pedicured foot! Merrie had been to more parties with more high-class celebrities than pints of champagne Aiber had consumed in all of last year – which, Merrie assumed, was quite a considerable accomplishment. She was not some mangy thief under the floorboards, she was a well-bred lady for goodness' sake, with knowledge of the most refined etiquette. She could dine in a silverware set of twelve forks and five spoons at any dinner party around the world, and she could do it with a hangover and two hours of sleep, too. She had the elegant disposition of a princess entwined in her badass nightlife edge, and it was ludicrous to presume that she was not fully aware of every unspoken rule of social interaction! 

But Aiber, who was unfortunately branded with masculinity at birth, was not clearly knowledgeable when it came to the girl's-only game of Matchmaker. Like Victorian dining there were _rules_, and no one knew why they were rules but you sure as hell did not break them. One central pillar of Eros's Temple was that both targets involved were _not allowed to know that they were being set up_. On the day they finally got together they had to think it was fate, certainly it was _fate_ anyway, but sometimes even the gods needed a little push of encouragement. That's where she came in.

Men or not, Panda Face and Goldenboy weren't the dullest tools in the shed. So Merrie felt the need to be somewhat secretive in the plans she was conducting. In other words, there was no snowball's chance in Hades that she was just going to _ask_ Light if he was dating Satanette.

No, on the contrary, she would have to be crafty. Not a problem, she thought as she inconspicuously planted another audio bug behind the door of the woman's restroom on the lobby of the Yotsuba building in broad daylight. She adjusted the radio frequency to optimum compatibility with L's sensitive equipment, and decided that she would wheedle the truth out of the boys as easily as wielding language. She was about as crafty as it was humanly possible to be, and she was more than willing to put her skills to the test.

Just like grade school.

"Howdy, boys," Merrie greeted as soon as she returned to headquarters, walking next to the boys, who were engaging themselves like usual in the wall of computer equipment. With a hand on her hip and bloodthirsty eyes hiding under her darkened sunglasses, she was a predator, advancing upon her prey.

"Wedy-san, are you sober today?" L inquired immediately without looking her way. Quite the cheeky little brat.

Merrie smiled. "You know, you don't really know what you're missing. I think I shall have to get you drunk one of these nights, sweetie."

'Sweetie' seemed like an appropriate obligatory label of affection for Panda Face (one that could be spoken out loud and not result in her getting physically assaulted, anyway). The guy was ceaselessly downing sweets, loaded in calories, carbohydrates and trans fats. Now why didn't any of that abundant sucrose leak into his callous disposition? Or to his stomach, for that matter? Maybe Watari fed him chocolate-coated diet pills. The secret to his slimness might also have to be investigated in the future, she could make billions mass-producing the method in America.

"You can think again," L responded with defiance.

"Why not? You like sugar, so you ought to try the fermented kind." She gave a dazzling smile, all pearl-white teeth and fit for a walk across the red carpet. "It's more fun that way."

"I can think of more interesting ways to have fun," the detective said solemnly.

_Ha, ha. I can also think of more interesting ways for you to have fun. _

Merrie nodded seriously, and her eyes flickered in the direction of the other boy who sat complacently by his keyboard. "Yes, I'm sure. Light can, too, can't you, honey?"

Blink. Blink. Russet irises fluttered under long lashes. "Sure, Wedy-san."

"Maybe there's something that you two can do together. Something that has nothing to do with capturing Kira for once."

"We have to capture Kira," Light said with certainty, rather missing the point. "He's a murderer, and if that weren't enough, he's framed me and I've become Ryuzaki's prime suspect. We're not doing this for the entertainment value."

Not for the entertainment? Bullshit. "Obviously, but you have to take breaks and relax every once in awhile. You know, release all of that built-up tension."

_Yeah, Light, my darling. You know exactly what kind of tension I'm referring to._

Blink. Blink. "Ryuzaki and I play chess sometimes."

..._Or not_.

"That's nice, Light-kun." Merrie cocked her head to the side, blonde curls tossing against her cheeks as she inspected the kid with precision. It seemed as though she would need to shove this conversation, gently so, in the proper direction. "Does his rook often take your queen?"

"What?" Light contemplated this with far too much sincerity. "I don't know, my queen usually stays in the game longer than his does."

"I'm just asking, because rooks can slide across the chess board so easily. And the queen is the most desired target for your opponent to take, correct?" She ever-so-delicately lowered her voice then, letting the words purr from her throat. "Though really, I suppose, depending on how you like to play you can _take it_ any way you want."

He looked skeptical, which was proof that he was still utterly clueless. "Wedy-san, the game is more about strategy. It's about protecting the king while simultaneously trying to take your opponent's. Every other piece is only a tool."

"Yes?" Merrie's cherry lips danced into a smile. "And whose tools last... _longer_?"

"Umm... I guess it depends."

"On?"

"Uh... who's playing better?" He looked confused, and then he gave a sunny grin. "Ryuzaki's chess abilities probably correlate with the amount of sugar he's consumed."

Okay. This conversation wasn't a complete waste of time, because that was good to know. On the day that Merrie finally got righteous adolescent chained to L's bed, she would be sure to leave them a good-luck present of whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

"Wedy has a sudden interest in chess, is this so?" L asked accusingly, narrowing his dark-as-coal tar eyes in her direction. The detective was suspicious of her. Again. Now that she was on personal terms with Monkey Boy it seemed like a blow to her pride to be caught (again), however she was the queen of glamor the world called Wedy, gods bear witness, and she was absolutely undaunted.

"You could say that," she affirmed. "It's a lovely little game. What I was really wondering, though, is Light, do you play chess with Misa?"

"What? Oh, no, never, not with Misa."

The look of horror on the teenager as he gave the answer brought an excellent smirk to Merrie's face. Bingo! That was it! No boyfriend would play such a emotionally compelling game as chess with another love interest but not his own girlfriend! This was exactly what Merrie wanted to hear, she couldn't wait to rub it into Aiber's smug face and let the _real _matchmaking begin-

"But sometimes she and I play Connect Four."

What the...

_Light Yagami. You slut._

The boy looked worried as he interpreted her facial expression, and with a meek smile he admitted, "I know it's not a very complex game, but it keeps her happy."

Merrie's teeth bared in severe displeasure, and she tightened her lips again when L cocked an eyebrow at her. The words were on the tip of her tongue, she just wanted to break the rules and ask him if he was bloody dating the banshee or not, but damn it all anyway, she was Merrie Kenwood and she was not going to throw in the towel so easily. Instead she took her leave and let her stiletto heels collide viciously across the tile floor, thinking that this called for a new plan because no matter how many IQ points they had under their belts, boys didn't know shit about the rules.

* * *

_Are you dating Misa? Are you having sexual relations with that woman?_ The words would be so easy to say. Not that Merrie cared, not that it mattered, since L and Light were soul mates. It didn't matter if he was dating anyone, he would just have to un-date them. Really. Really, it didn't matter, and Merrie didn't even care to know whether or not it was true just because of how ultimately obsolete it was in her plans of proudly serving the goddess Aphrodite. 

Really.

Okay, so Aiber wasn't telling her anything. Asking Light or L was out of the question. Evidently Misa sure _thought_ that she was going steady with Goldenboy, but obviously one should not listen to the claims of the devil. In fact, because Misa was Satanette, she was probably lying. Evil is associated with falsehood, after all. So there was no reason to investigate, it was really all quite clear, even if slightly indirect...

The cops would know the truth. Unfortunately, Chief Soichiro Yagami, ever the gentleman, wanted to graciously offer her a seat in an electric chair. Asking him if his darling son was single somehow did not strike her as a very wise course of action.

"Hi, Wedy-san."

She walked right by the puppy-dog cop as she trekked down the hallway toward her door. She didn't have the time to deal with his flushed face or hopelessly dilated pupils as she passed, his eyes falling down to the sway of her hips encased in tight black pants was something she had long since desensitized to. No, Merrie had to_ think_. She should have known that this game was going to be horribly labyrinthine with the infamous L involved, but she never fathomed that there would be weeds to hack before she even got to work on him. As for the Yagami boy, he was clearly far too dedicated to his ethical convictions and capturing Kira to notice what a hopeless case of Stockholm's Syndrome he was developing. And L, the conniving sonuvabitch wasn't exactly the most open, sensitive guy around who would maturely discuss his pent up sexual frustrations for his prime suspect.

As if the original situation hadn't been pleasant enough, now the monkey wrench, Misa-'I'm-the-Antichrist'-Amane, had been tossed into the system mechanics. That woman, digging her painted nails into Light's skin and branding him, like an evil spirit trying to lure the young romantic into the Otherworld to be trapped for eternity. Merrie was much too heroic to let that happen, and even if she was the only one fighting, she would not back down.

But hold the phone, what _would _Soichiro Yagami think of that, anyway? Certainly the traditional, morally-uptight man couldn't be any more pleased about his baby boy dating a supernatural-obsessed model (who was probably Kira) who pranced around sporting Gothic Lolita and heavy eye makeup than she was. To be fair, he probably wouldn't much like having his son dating a skinny enigma of male sex who acted like (was?) a hard core druggie, but at least in the immediate issue they might have a common enemy. It was a pity that he wanted her to die or rot in prison, along with the other stick-up-their-asses cops. That was, all of them except-

"Matsuda," Merrie stopped in her tracks down the hallway. Yes. The puppy-dog was also acting as Misa Amane's manager, and managers know everything about their clients. Slowly, delicately, knowing that he was watching her, she turned her head. Predatory eyes struck the young victim, and her lips curved slightly into something dark and sinister, exaggerated by her striking red lipstick. "Matsuda-san, I'm distraught."

Matsuda blinked his wide eyes, clearing quite aghast that his crush was acknowledging his existence. He covered this up by sloppily forcing a laugh, running a shaky hand through his raven strands of hair. "Oh, is that so? What's bothering you? Is there something that I can do to help?"

She fought back her own laugh, and instead, just smiled. "I don't usually confide in anyone, I'm a very private person. I suppose I'm simply... lonely. " she turned her head slightly away there, to emphasize the aforementioned distress. "I'm alienated, especially by the police unit. It's awfully frightening to work with L, when they look at me as though they'd prefer slitting my throat to capturing Kira."

Matsuda's jaw was unhinged, and his eyes were wide and jittery. Merrie allowed him a few seconds to respond, but all he managed was making a choking noise that she was pretty sure was not in the Japanese dictionary, unless it was heavy slang.

"Could it be because I'm American?" she mused woefully. "Because I am a woman? Do they judge me for my profession?"

"That's not true!" Fantastic. She had pegged him as the good-hearted hero type, and he was playing it perfectly. He approached her, and shyly put a hand on her shoulder. "That's not true at all. If anyone is nervous around you, it's only because... only because..."

"Because what, Matsuda-san?" Merrie raised her eyelids so that her irises would look wide and fluttering. She upturned her chin to gaze longingly into his face. (He actually smelled quite nice. What cologne was this? It beat the hell out of Mogi's.)

"Because you are so beautiful." His cheeks were burning with a fiery anxious red, but his eyes were filled with determination. A shy hero, yes, Merrie could find that adorable. Quite precious, in fact, now that she thought about it. "I've never met another woman quite like you, Wedy-san. I can't seem to think straight!"

_Boo-yah._

There was no point in being coy with her attentions now, because she had this weed snagged. She wrapped her perfectly manicured hands around his back, slipping them under his arms. Matsuda was taller than her, but not by much – especially not with the impressive stiletto heals that she wore. It was therefore easy enough to incline her head forward, and bashfully press her lips against his open, dumbfounded mouth.

"Oh, Wedy-san," he murmured half-heartedly, but he was turning his head away. "You're just lonely, I can't, I can't take advantage of you..."

_What, you bonehead. I'm the one taking advantage of _you. With more assertion and demand, she bent her elbows upward from behind him to catch his head and turn it back towards her. The chaste act tossed aside, she plunged herself onto him, immediately thrusting her tongue into his unsure mouth.

Modestly, so modestly that she had to keep from chuckling, he allowed her entry. And then, after just a half second of resistance to her temptations, he answered the call by releasing his own tongue. It was a surrender to Aphrodite's kiss, humble but with pure patronage. Merrie liked that - and best of all, Matsuda was rather good at this. This clearly wasn't his first kiss - she had feared a sloppy first-timer - but there was a sort of balanced grace to his movements. It wasn't bold enough to win the perfect ten, yet it was sure as hell better than _not_ making out.

And then, as suddenly as she started, she pulled out. She intended to blush like a nun with embarrassment, but faking something as ridiculous as that was easier said than done. Her sister was the actress in the family, not her. Instead, Merrie settled for fluttering her eyelashes as she turned away, eyes cast down on the ground. "Matsuda-san, you've made me so happy. Thank you... for being here."

"Uh, you're welcome, Wedy-san. Anytime." Matsuda comically realized how suggestively direct that sounded, because he cringed. "I didn't mean that, I meant-"

"_You didn't_ mean that?" The burglar narrowed her eyes and snapped her face upward to meet his.

"I mean, I did, if that's what you wanted it to mean, that is! I don't, ah, I'm sorry, I'm confusing myself, I-"

He was babbling with incredible awkwardness, so Merrie stopped listening. It wasn't was though the accomplishment itself was worth bragging for, but what was to come next was what she was quite pleased about. After all, she was altruistic in nature, and she made it her personal responsibility to do good in the world – and this was one step closer to undergoing one of the most grand crusades for the world's most worthy cause: love.

"Matsuda-san," she announced, cutting through his noise. "This doesn't reflect us at our most professional, and both of our respective employers are not going to approve of this..."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that." He looked stricken, though whether it was from potentially facing Soichiro's wrath or from potentially being denied his crush was unknown. Who knew how men's minds worked, they were a mind-boggling species. "Should we, err, never speak of this again?"

As though he was entirely too familiar with the idea. Aw.

"It's fine," Merrie assured warmly. "But let's keep it a secret, okay? A professional secret. With no long-term commitment, no promises and no hard feelings."

This was more than fine with Matsuda, who nodded vigorously. In fact, it was such a vigorous nod that she did not know quite what to make of that. She rather hoped he didn't get too attached, but she gave herself morality points for being honest and sterilizing any hopes of an established relationship before they spawned.

Merrie took a moment to cross her arms and lean casually against the hallway wall, right by her door. Her hand crawled to the handle of her door and briskly clicked it open, nodding toward the cop. "Now tell me a little more about yourself, Matsuda-kun. I want to get to know you better. Your family, your hobbies. Maybe, oh, I don't know, your job working undercover as Misa Amane's modeling agent..."

* * *

"Ahem." 

Merrie cleared her throat as triumphantly as humanly possible. Aiber heard the noise (considering its ferocity, one would have to be wearing earplugs to miss it). The French man gave what might have been a highly exasperated sigh and looked up the reports he was glancing over about various Yotsuba employees, and took a quick gulp of his champagne as though it were medicine.

"_Bonsoir, ma chérie._"

"So..." Merrie started, her lips tugging into a sweet little smile. "I seduced some answers out of Matsuda."

He shook his head reprimandingly. "You're shameless."

"You're jealous."

"To the point of hardly being able to contain my utter dismay."

"I knew it!"

"Yes, the romantic in me only wishes that I had gotten to Matsuda first."

Ha, ha. Very cute, Aiber.

"Anyway, he said something you'll find quite interesting, I'm sure, and-" Merrie halted as she glanced over at the report Aiber had gone back to reading, or more specifically, the photograph in the top right corner. "Who's that?"

He didn't look up as he briskly replied, "A Kira suspect."

"Reiji Namikawa." She slowly deciphered the Japanese kanji that spelled the name with very great interest. "That guy's hot. What's_ his _romantic status?"

"I thought you didn't care about that."

"I suppose I don't."

"You're _hopelessly_ shameless, and far beyond redemption."

Tch. There were more fun things in the world to talk about than how badly she was going to hell, and honestly, who was _he _to talk? "Listen to this. Matsuda says that Misa's love is one-sided! One-sided! Matsuda heard from Mogi that Light dated her before L captured them, but then Matsuda said that Light told L that he doesn't have mutual romantic feelings for her. And L told this Aizawa guy, who's a cop who quit the case because of L – understandable, actually – that he believes Misa is Kira because she loves Light, and Matsuda heard it from Aizawa. But Light also – get this – told Misa to her face that he doesn't really remember being intimate with her! That was last month, right after L released them from solitary incarceration, and even though they both live in the same building they don't see each other often because they both work all day!"

"I didn't actually pay attention to a word you just said," Aiber admitted gallantly.

"Well _obviously_ Panda Face is jealous of Misa's affections, otherwise why the hell would he chain up Light like that? And he even keeps Misa in the seventeenth floor of this building, far below any investigation quarters. She's only allowed up occasionally! And really, even from what _I've_ witnessed, L treats that boy like a piece of meat he's playing guard dog over, so it's not like I'm lacking personal evidence here."

"That's really attractive imagery. Miss Wedy makes a charming poet. Are you certain you aren't French?"

She ignored the sarcasm because it was of no benefit to her. "It's all true. Honestly, the conclusion is just so crystal clear. I was right the whole time."

"You haven't considered the possibility that maybe, ah, the handcuffs are there to consistently monitor Light for suspicious criminal behavior while allowing him to use his vast intellect to further the investigation, and Amane is secured elsewhere because she is merely of no direct use?"

Because his attitude was really beginning to annoy her, Merrie stopped gracing the lowly con-man with her level stare and turned instead to the window. She huffed and examined her reflection through the glass, adjusting her hair slightly with a slender hand clad in black leather glove. "Aiber, honey, I do believe you might be every inch as false as your business suggests."

"Wedy, my Hera," Aiber said kindly, shaking his head slightly. "You need only to recognize the fact that L and Light Yagami are polar opposites. You truthfully have no firm foundation to lay your hypothesis upon."

"Silence, non-believer."

"If only you would consider the possibility that you're looking too far into everything?"

"If only you would consider the possibility of... arsenic in your wine tomorrow. I can arrange it."

"You know what we say about Americans, my dear?" Aiber asked naturally, saluting her with his champagne glass as though taunting the fact that it was not poisoned. "They thrive off of drama."

"You know what we say about the French?" Merrie shot back. She leaned forward, her face just an inch away from his. Her hand snaked forward and snatched the glass, bringing it quite immediately to her lips and tasting the alcohol. She drained the entire glass as Aiber frowned at her, and then tossed the empty vessel back into his lap. "_Freedom fries._"

_-To Be Continued..._

* * *

Author's Notes: 

1. The Real Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Nor do I ate tacos unless the beef is deceitfully tofu. (the quote is from Aqua Teen Hunger Force, a show I don't watch except my brother made me watch that episode. This is completely irrelevant. FYI.)

2. Sooo... Wedy is totally on my wall. I bought this amazing Death Note poster. It's got Light there, being all Kira-is-a-sexy-beast-ish, and L with a cell phone and Aiber looking awesome, but right in the front there is Wedy, completely awesome and sexy and wielding a handgun. I thought you all should know.

3. Kids, don't try this at home – I'm referring to wall-climbing, bug-planting and seducing Matsuda. Wedy is a highly-trained professional.

4. I found out that "Merrie" is a badly translated form of "Mary". In the anime, "Merrie" is used, and the manga uses "Mary". You know, like the Virgin Mary. Yes.

5. I think I might try to update sooner next time. XD For real, not kidding. Thanks everyone who has left a comment, telling me to update... sometimes I forget that I wrote this fic. o.O


	4. Dionysus

**PANDORA'S MISCHIEF: Chapter 4**

Disclaimer: I'm disclaiming.

**Dionysus**

* * *

"All right, my wily mischief-making Pan, will you remind me what exactly you're planning now?"

"What, you weren't paying attention?"

"Nay, for I did not give a Herculean shit until you volunteered me as well."

Merrie Kenwood twisted a loose blonde lock of hair in her finger, admiring both the shining quality that this morning's conditioning had bestowed upon the golden color as well as the wine-red hue of polish on her freshly filed nails. She was, of course, absolutely stunning, but beautifying herself had taken a little longer than usual. Work last night had been dreadfully brutal and reduced her normally flawless features to running make-up, greasy hair, chipped nails and tender skin in dire need of a facial. Alas, that slovenly appearance was certainly a tragedy and she had mourned herself for being seen in such a state, but after a two hour bubble bath with the fancy bath oils that she had nabbed from Watari, her marvelous discovery made it all worth it.

To be perfectly clear, breaking into the Yotsuba building four times a week to plant bugs in various places, higher and higher up each floor but never so many that they might be found – that was only busywork. The so-called security in that upscale dumphole was practically elementary child's play in comparison to other high class skyscrapers that she'd greased. The billion-dollar company apparently saw fit to finance their surveillance with a few big, clunky cameras and fat ass guards. No, that disappointment hadn't been the problem.

The problem was that at approximately 3:53 AM, she had been strutting through the lobby, finishing up her rounds when she saw a postcard lying on a secretary's desk. Naturally, being the child of Pandora, and here being the box, figuratively speaking, she simply had to steal a peek.

_Summer Festival Office Party__  
Hyatt Regency Hotel, Crystal Ballroom__  
July 22, 20:00 to midnight  
Formal Dress  
Guests Welcome_

Merrie had squealed. Yep, out loud.

After a narrow escape through a second floor window from the Furious Flying Donut Man, her favorite blundering security guard, she pulled out her emergency foundation kit. Yeah, her makeup was totally bombed and she was sweating, and damned if L wasn't going to financially compensate. She jumped a few gates and dashed briskly down the street to where her motorcycle, her noble steed, stood in waiting. As annoyed as she was about the makeup, as she slid on the leather seat and slipped her helmet over her head, she was overcome with a giddy delight.

It was a hyper sport bike with 7,500 rpm. 1352 cc four-stroke, liquid cooled, a dual overhead camshaft with four-valve per cylinder - high performance engine in a striking lightweight ebony frame. Six speed with capabilities of accelerating 0 to 60 mph in just two and a half seconds. This brilliant mold of metal and horsepower could exceed 180 mph, 290 km/h in metric. This baby wasn't even on the normal consumer market yet, being just recently debuted at the Tokyo 2004 Show, and had belonged to Merrie, registered under the alias Hildagarde Kawasaki, for approximately three weeks. The bike itself was worth more than a night with Hideki Ryuga, Japan's most cherished male model (and you got more for your money, too, from what Merrie had heard on the street).

Good thing Merrie didn't actually buy it.

Merrie kicked the vehicle into gear, which she affectionately referred to as "her Pegasus". The same name as the rest of her twenty-seven motorcycles stationed in various locations around the world (except for Sauron, the guzzling piece of shit that broke down after only four high-speed chases).

The next morning she was up bright and early. No, she wasn't exactly up _before_ L, as she was pretty sure such a feat was humanly impossible. Hell if she knew what the spider-monkey did all night, but she liked to think it wasn't research, rather, he was either crouched on the bed watching Light sleep or playing World of Warcraft. Possibly both. Point aside, L was wide awake, along with Light, and everyone else, actually. But she had surprised her co-workers with a cheerful smile and a plethora of energy, all before she had consumed her usual three cups of coffee with artificial sweetener. Her uncharacteristically good mood earned her several stupefied looks, but it explained itself when she announced to the group her findings.

"Yes, I think that is a good idea," L agreed with her, after the crackling sound of hell freezing over. At first Merrie thought she had misheard him, as the detective's mouth was full of chocolate marshmallow Pop-Tart and so his voice was distorted, but the man continued. "We should take advantage of Yotsuba's party and send in a private investigator."

"Of course, you're referring to me," Merrie pointed to her chest and tossed her head dramatically.

At the suggestion, Monkey Boy looked as though he suddenly had the desire to take a lethal dosage of Pepto Bismol and whatever else he might find in the bathroom medicine cabinet. "...I'll probably regret this, but yes. However, Wedy-san will be... awkward attending such an event alone, especially since she is not Japanese."

"I'm not awkward," Merrie protested. When there was a moment of silence around the room, save a cascade of unpleasant coughs from the police officers, she cleared her throat and gave a dazzling smile. "But it's more fun working with someone. Light, sweetheart, wanna be my date?"

"He does _not._"

Unfortunately that angry rejection came from Daddy Yagami and not her spindly employer. Merrie watched L meticulously to see if his expression altered in the slightest. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or Merrie's overactive imagination, but she could've sworn – maybe – that L might've jerked his handcuffed wrist slightly, of course to ensure that he was still connected to his darling, beloved prisoner.

No, okay, it was probably her overactive imagination. At least she could, on occasion, admit it.

"I can't leave Ryuzaki," Light informed Merrie helpfully. Unfortunately the serious expression he wore was just way too serious to be referring to anything more than the fact that, _duh, _he was handcuffed. Well no shit, Sherlock, it wasn't like she would ever forget _that. _Yet, to give a profound Freudian interpretation of the situation, perhaps that was merely what Golden Boy was consciously thinking. Obviously what he really meant in the depths of his lonely soul was that he couldn't bear to be with anyone else except his one true love. Light would go mad with worry, his heart ripped to pieces, should he ever be parted from his Ryuzaki!

Confound the effect that Sigmund Freud had on her imagination. Screwing Matsuda hadn't, as she had hoped but knew it wouldn't, cured her of raging hormones. Instead, at 8 AM in the morning, Merrie had to blink to reassure herself that all these respectable gentlemen were, in fact, adorning clothing.

"That's fine," Merrie replied, still quite chipper and went to imagining her fellow self-proclaimed felon in his birthday suit. "I wouldn't dream to separate the boys. Aiber will just be my date."

"What?" Aiber, who had been until that moment relaxed with his black coffee on the couch, yelped indignantly. "No! No, that is not a good idea. Shouldn't it be someone Japanese? Take Matsuda."

The puppy-dog cop practically shrieked, "Yes! Wedy-san! I'd be happy to-"

"No, the other men here are cops," she dismissed with a wave of her hand, before Matsuda accidentally confessed his love and then some with that big fat mouth of his. As far as Light and L were concerned, she was still a lesbian. "They have profiles to protect and cannot risk recognition in their home city. You coming here on a business trip and bringing me, your charming American wife, would be much more proper. You're the only man in this room who can say he's not Japanese. Unless you'll be my date, Ryuzaki?"

"I think Aiber will do just fine."

The con-man looked deliciously horrified, slamming his coffee cup on the table. "Ryuzaki, I do not want to take this, this-"

"Aww, is poor Aiber-san nervous about a date with me?" she leered, perking her lips to blow an exaggerated kiss. "I promise not force you past first base if you don't feel ready for it. Unless you dress provocatively, so watch yourself."

"L!"

"I actually agree with her, strange as that sounds," Panda Face admitted, scratching his head. "Sexual harassment aside, it'll be a good way to investigate Yotsuba. Though I cannot help but feel that Wedy-san has some ulterior motive."

Merrie put a hand over her mouth to conceal a dainty little gasp. "Who, me?"

Again, no one answered.

One thing was sure, and that was that Interpol didn't call L the world's greatest detective for nothing. Of course Merrie had ulterior motives, and not even her brilliant acting skills could convince him otherwise. To be fair, L had profiled her pretty well the time that he caught her pinching diamonds at the museum, and hey, she respected that. He knew that she never went out of her way to lift a finger unless she herself got something out of the deal. But somehow he seemed to have missed the part where she also had an altruistic, caring personality. Mathematically, the positives cancel out the negatives and Merrie was pretty sure her karma was doing just dandy. L was the one who ought to be worrying about spontaneous lightning bolts thrust upon him via Zeus, but even the wicked deserve love and he could send Merrie the bill later when she delivered him a nude Japanese super-genius drizzled with chocolate sauce.

The Yotsuba formal party scheme actually had a few perks that had interested her. It wasn't that working on the fabulously brag-worthy Kira case was a bore, but she had a mental list of very good reasons why she ought to volunteer herself to work extra hours.

Numero uno: It gave her an excuse to doll up and show off. As much as she loved black leather and sunglasses, it got old pretty quick and she would much rather be attracting stares than running away from them. She could even go shopping, and would convince L to let her spend the day at the beauty salon. After all, Merrie was convinced that she had an obligation to treat the body that the gods had so kindly bestowed upon her as a temple. She would be a tribute to Aphrodite, and so in the bigger picture, she gained karma points for pleasing Greek deities.

Numero dos: Reiji Namikawa. He was the guy in the picture from the Yotsuba files that she had seen, and the only time she was okay with being a one-sided fantasizer was when she was watching _Lord of the Rings._

Numero tres: She got to piss off Aiber.

Numero cuatro... Well, that lead back to-

"All right, my wily mischief-making Pan, will you remind me what exactly you're planning now?"

"What, you weren't paying attention?"

"Nay, for I did not give a Herculean shit until you volunteered me as well."

Merrie glanced over to the wall of computer monitors, where Panda Face and Goldenboy were seated on swivel chairs approximately three feet apart – which would be, according to her diligent calculations, a foot and a half closer than usual. The chain rested in a coiled loop on the floor, a testimony to an increased comfort level between the two almost-lovers. It was as sickeningly obvious as a Disney movie, without the stupid G rating, so why was Merrie the only one able to see it?

Because men were dumbasses, and Misa was, well. Misa.

"I am going to destroy your doubts."

"About _what_?" The Frenchman demanded, clearly perturbed. And then Aiber's eyes widened like saucers and he clutched his wine glass so tightly that it threatened to shatter into a billion glass shards and simultaneously explode, reducing L's bullet-proof concrete fortress into rubble and murdering everyone inside. "Oh dear God, please don't tell me this is all about your absurd plot to get _your employer_ and his _prime suspect_ to have sex!"

As if it wasn't obvious. "Aiber, baby, why else do you think I'm still here?"

"_Mon dieu!_ Damned if I thought... to _uphold your work contract_?"

Merrie blinked. "...Seriously?"

* * *

Aiber, being an aforementioned male dumbass, couldn't seem to get it through his thick blond head. After nearly fifteen minutes of patient explaining, he still couldn't grasp what she was trying to accomplish. Yes, he got that she wouldn't be satisfied until her homo-erotic sexual fantasies had been, beyond probability, magicked into reality, as he so cynically put it. But the only way to accomplish such a feat, he claimed, was through a lot of illegal aphrodisiacs and other thought-impairing drugs, as well as a kidnapping and a handgun.

Merrie informed him firmly that abduction would be only her very last resort. She could do this totally 100 percent legal.

Well, okay, closer to 38 percent legal, but the sex would be voluntary.

All of Merrie's work so far was nothing more than setting up the playing field. She had managed to find her star players (Panda-Face and Goldenboy) and fiercely exterminated the competition (Misa 'Satanette' Amane), at least, temporarily neutralized it. The bases were loaded and the fans were quite ready to see the boys hit some home runs.

The conundrum presenting itself was that Ryuzaki and Light evidently didn't know how to play ball.

Really, Merrie would have thought it would come as a natural, do-it-like-they-do-it-on-the-Discovery Channel instinct. It wasn't as though adolescent boys/young men/what-the-hell-Ryuzaki-was needed to get the two-for-one porn special at the local video store and take notes. They were two bachelors sharing a bed every night as well as practically living some weird BDSM handcuff game daily and they hadn't even gone up to the plate to bat, let alone jog to first base. What came as common sense to Merrie was apparently rocket science for the boy geniuses.

But no, that couldn't have even been the case. It was clear from every time Satanette pranced into the room in frilly lolita and clung to Light. These moments not only indicated that Light was living proof that some people were just born gay, but from the snide little comments that L would make and the way Light would pointedly ignore her or blush during his weaker moments it also was clear that the boys knew what a penis was and were aware that it had more than one self-relieving use. The intelligence was there, but clearly it was the atmosphere they were lacking. A cold, dark investigation room twenty stories off the ground wasn't exactly a love hotel, and furthermore, they were surrounded by a situation and by people who demanded that they remain serious and professional.

The passion, yes, the boys had that threefold. On the rare occasion that Merrie's mind was somewhere else than the gutter, she could admire their dedication in capturing Kira. It was amazing how strong they could be together, and how they kept each other going even on the late nights when it was clear that they were weary. Yet still, they were missing out on the experience that would truly bind them as soul mates, and that's where Merrie came in. They just needed a hint. A gentle shove. A reminder of _amour_.

Merrie had agreed to let Aiber drive only because she liked him opening the door for her. Like a proper rich gentleman wearing dark pinstripes, a violet button-down and hair gelled like a star, he took Merrie's hand and they started to the crystal ballroom.

"Tell me I'm lovely," she cooed as she flounced down the hallways.

Not that she needed reassurance. She was wearing a sleek red satin evening dress that shimmered against the lamplight. It was form-fitting, which complimented her waist and her hips without being too tight anywhere except against her breasts, where it rode down snugly in a low V-neck cut. Thigh-high nylons tanned her legs, and three inch leather heeled boots made her even taller than she actually was. If she were to dress for ideal sexiness, she would have been wearing strapped heels, but she needed the boots to conceal a modest selection of weaponry should she hypothetically get herself in a tight spot. No, boots or not, she didn't need reassurance that she looked absolutely ravishing tonight.

She just liked being complimented.

Aiber glanced tersely in her direction before pulling her along. "Of course you're lovely. The very image the naiad Calypso."

"I don't know what you're trying to imply," she replied innocently, recalling that Calypso was the goddess who kept the hero Odysseus on her island for seven years of sexual imprisonment.

"That you're a brilliant specimen of femininity." He spoke through tightened lips as he gave a sunny smile to a well-dressed Japanese couple who were exiting the lavish party room that they were about to enter. Under gritted teeth, "who has prisoners in her head."

Merrie was about to deny all charges when-

"_Okay, you two, we've got control of all the hotel's cameras, plus the extras that Wedy installed last night._" It was Light, speaking into the earpieces that both she and Aiber were wearing. They would be completely invisible underneath their blond hair, as well as the microphones should they need to speak back. "_It's busy, but that should help your cover. There are business connections from all over Europe here, so you won't stand out from your ethnicities alone."_

"I'm certain that my _darling wife_-" Cute stress on the label, Aiber. "-stands out even when she's crawling through vents."

"Aww. You're sweet."

"_I shouldn't have to tell this to two professionals, but please take care in when you speak directly to us_," L, who was also connected to the communicators, chided. "_It is of the utmost importance that you remain unnoticed."_

Merrie laughed so hard she snorted.

L sighed. "_I am beginning to regret this already."_

* * *

After twenty minutes of hooking her arm around Aiber's elbow as they ventured around the crystal ballroom, the predominant thought in her head was _eh, I've seen better._ Sure, it was fancy, sure, everyone was dressed up and looked like they lit their smokes from hundred dollar bills, or whatever the yen equivalent was. But something about the atmosphere was too stifled and polite for Merrie's tastes. Aiber wasn't even talking to her, as he was busy introducing "himself" and "his _wife" _to whoever stopped long enough for obligatory conversation. Even L and Light were being a bore, reading off facts that she was supposed to care about and introducing people that she was supposed to investigate so they could check for suspicious behavior.

After twenty-three minutes, she was bored, so announced to Aiber through a plastered smile that she was going to go get wasted. Aiber was quite quick to relinquish her arm.

"_Wait, Wedy-san,"_ Light started. "_You know how you get when you're drinking... maybe you shouldn't..."_

"_Don't worry about it, Yagami-kun."_

"_But if she gets drunk and does something irrational, and Kira is here in Yostuba-"_

"_That was actually my reasoning."_

"Pompous brat," she grumbled under her breath. She sauntered across the dance floor in which there was actually no dancing, which couldn't really be helped when the musicians were playing soft classical. If Yotsuba had only had the sense to hire a proper DJ, now would be the time in the party when Merrie would request Spice Girls and put her most refined skills to good use. As it was, she shoved through the finely dressed socializing crowd and tracked down the waiter who bore a tray of champagne glasses. They locked eyes, and at her feral expression the man visibly gulped before practically surrendering the full set of alcohol.

Merrie drained the first one in a single drink, grabbed the man's shirt when he tried to sneak away, and then snatched a second one.

The time was about right when she would start putting her crafty little plot into action. In all of Merrie's experiences, she had found that it was practically biological fact that young men who had managed to survive without being castrated were generally aroused or at least intrigued when sex crossed their minds. Visual pornography often had a greater impact on males than females, and being confronted with sexuality had a strong chance of putting them in the mood. Not that Merrie was planning on putting on a strip show here and now, as funny a story that would be to tell her sister, but what she wanted was for L and Light to have to sit through a session of proper ballroom romancing. Surely a few sweet words and kisses would stimulate something in their genius little brains (and elsewhere), and the only person they would have to turn to would be one another.

She tried to track down the waiter again, but he seemed to have found a nice corner as far away from her as possible. Luckily, down by edge of the dance floor was a proper bar, with stools and a bartender who was efficiently filling glasses. That seemed as good a place as any to wait for awhile, so she drifted in that direction with a few casual greetings and compliments to the people around her.

Before she arrived, however, she found him. Namikawa, standing with the grandiose beauty of a lark and twice as handsome as his picture. He wore a black suit and tie over white dress shirt – nothing out of the ordinary, but the proud way he held his head and let his smooth dark hair fall in long strands against his shoulders ensured Merrie that this was a man of importance and influence. Those were qualities that Merrie found attractive, and though they were a good distance away from one another, when he saw her watching him he granted her a smile.

"_Wedy-san, that man to your left is Reiji Namikawa,_" Light informed after a pause to scan through the dossiers they had collected for nearly everyone there. "_He's the Vice President of Yotsuba's sales department. He graduated at Harvard University in America._"

Merrie put a hand to her mouth as if she were coughing politely, but murmured instead, "Is he single?"

"_Yes, he's unmarried... hold on! What exactly are you planning?"_

"Why, I'm just going to ask him if he's Kira." Her hand had lingered too long, and she lowered it, putting on her best smile and meandering closer to Namikawa's direction without being too obvious.

"_Wedy-san, you can't do that! Playing with someone's feelings is the worst thing you can do, even if it's to catch Kira!"_

Oh lovely, Light was her very own little angel of conscience, standing on her shoulder and beseeching into her ear.

"_I disagree. Pursuing this could uncover important information._"

And L was the devil.

"_Ryuzaki, don't say that! We have to do what we can to find Kira, but we can't compromise our own morals!"_

"_Certainly. But fortunately for our investigation, Wedy does not have morals."_

Cretin. At least she was civilized.

"_I'm not all right with this. We need to uphold a strict set of ethics as a team, otherwise we're no better than Kira!"_

"_That doesn't even need to be questioned. Of course we're better than Kira. That is, with the possible exception of you, Light-kun."_

"_Accuse me all you like, but between the two of us I'm the one who's actually trying to be a good person here!"_

"_Your obnoxious self righteousness only increases the likelihood of you being a vigilante murderer, you know. If you're not going to be helpful then eat some cake and quiet down."_

"_Tsk. And you wonder why you don't have friends."_

This wasn't really going in the direction that she wanted, unless after her boys finished squabbling they were going to have mind blowing make-up sex. Which at this point, didn't seem likely if she couldn't get romance on their minds in the first place. The position they were putting her in though wasn't to her liking, as now she would have to pick a side which was inevitably going to piss one of them off. But her mind had been made up since she saw the party invitation lying the desk like a sign from the gods that night, and damned if Light wasn't going to change his mind soon enough about what he wanted to see. For now, he would have to learn to trust his elders.

The second glass of champagne was empty. The waiter dared to pass her by so that she could snag another one and turn over the old one. With a massive swig for good luck, she closed in on Namikawa.

The slightly feminine looking corporate power wasn't even pretending not to have his eyes on her. Though he was talking to another slick young black-suit, his face was clearly turned in her direction and his eyes fluttered her way with every free second he had. He stepped her way as close as he could without completely abandoning his conversation, giving a quick little smile and nod of his head to invite her over. Time for the kill.

But that's when she was interrupted.

"Excuse me, beautiful," a voice like warm oil oozed. "These parties must be getting really high class if Yotsuba can now afford to invite angels."

Surprised but pleased with the flattery, Merrie turned to the holder of the voice. It was a tall, burly man with a mane of well combed brown hair and a suit that possibly cost as much as her motorcycle, if not more considering how well-pressed it was and taking cleaning bills into calculation. He rather resembled a horse, with a long face with broad cheekbones and a thin mouth, and a thick neck that ran down into a broad-shouldered chest. Despite reminding her of an old pony she rode around in her childhood, she tilted her head to the side in intrigue as he gave her a toothy grin. It could have been a direct result from all of the verbal and emotional abuse she was forced to endure every day at the Kira task force headquarters, but she was overdue for being showered with compliments and decided to humor the fellow until she got bored.

"An 'angel', he says," she chuckled slyly, curving her wrist and putting a slender finger on her bottom lip. "I'm no such thing!"

He insisted. "You look like one to me."

"How insulting," she said, and suddenly her warm expression dissipated entirely and morphed into something coldly fierce. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, eyelashes brushing against the blue irises like wind against ice. And then, when the man probably thought he was going to be slapped, she beamed winningly and corrected, "I'm a _goddess_."

With relief etched in every pore of his horse-face, the man laughed. "Ah, what a terrible mistake! Let me make it up to you."

"_Wedy-san, this impressive specimen of masculinity is Kyosuke Higuchi. In fact, he is a 5 dan in kendo. Please take a moment to envision his muscles._"

"Ryuzaki! _How can you even encourage her to...! Wedy-san, please go find Aiber._"

"_Light-kun, if you continue to whine about the way I conduct my investigation, I will take the microphone away from you."_

"Hm, I don't know," Merrie shrugged, putting on an air of indifference and raising her hand to delicately inspect her painted fingernails. Of course, the nail polish was a perfect, lush shade of rich magenta but she pretended to study some chip or other flaw with a displeased furrowing of her brow. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Higuchi watching her with that all too familiar look – intently and completely captivated. "An offended goddess usually requires a sacrifice."

"I will get you a drink," he proposed. "There is nothing here suitable for a goddess, but Yotsuba can come close."

"_Get him drunk, Wedy-san, and watch out for roofies._"

Son of a bitch was full of good advice. Who knew?

* * *

Now, Kyosuke Higuchi was no magical prancing cherub of immortal beauty and youthfulness. The bastard might have had his own rugged sort of attractiveness, if you looked at him from the right angle and he wasn't trying to smile – when he did he looked quite like a pedophile. Obviously a greasy, brawny ape or not, Merrie pegged him as the type who somehow managed to collect sixteen bimbo girlfriends and successfully(?) keep them from finding out about each other. Whether or not his personality could be called charming instead of sleazy was, she supposed, up to very personal interpretation. But regardless, this guy was loaded and only getting more loaded with every passing day, and for some girls that made all the difference.

Fortunately for him, Merrie Kenwood was one of those girls.

"So, Higuchi-kun," she started informally with a sensual curve of her lips as they settled on the cushioned chairs. A promising bottle of champagne joined them, which was uncorked with a satisfying _pop._ She filled her glass and tipped it against her mouth with the appearance of a delicate sip, a perfectly practiced motion that in fact allowed her to swallow twice without even bulging her cheeks. "Does your position as Head of Yotsuba's Technology Department pay the bills?"

For sober guys with an IQ over fifty, a line like that usually made them start squirming – enticed or not, this was a fairly reliable way to set off the hooker alert, or at least be a flashing billboard sign of a gold digger (Merrie, with dignity, was self-acknowledged of the latter, and commonly, without dignity, accused of the former). Merrie could have just as easily said _I want you to buy me shit _and when Higuchi widened his grin she thought that perhaps she should have added that to clarify if there was any confusion. But Kyosuke Higuchi was bumbling proof of the compelling power of sex, money, and making others think you have a huge dick, and as such he was only too happy to share the details of his financial situation. "I've got a penthouse and six cars."

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her legs at the thighs to let the front slit of her dress fall to the sides in a rippling wave of crimson fabric. The natural yet planned movement was more than enough to keep Mr. Compensation staring at her and not the waitress with the admittedly fine ass who was strutting next to them with a tray of sushi. Merrie shifted her hips, making Higuchi's tiny eyes bulge, and, without a doubt, something else tiny bulge too. "That doesn't tell me anything, honey. Quality, not quantity, is what I'm interested in."

Higuchi balled his massive hands into fists and stuffed one under his chin, resting the elbow on the table in an obvious attempt to be suave. Unfortunately for him, Merrie didn't give points for effort, unless said effort involved a pretty penny or a damned good shag. "You have no reason to believe my word, isn't that right? But I'll show you, and you can believe it with your own eyes..." The Yotsuba corporate lowered his voice for maximum huskiness. "Perhaps you would like to continue our conversation somewhere less... loud?"

Loud? They were playing fuckin' classical, for crying out loud. Christ, the guy would've been smoother just asking if she would join him in a brief session of orgasm-induced fluid exchange. Well, if he was so interested in proving to her that he was above poverty level, she could probably work some gold out of him as long as she was here in Japan.

"What would you like to do?" he prodded, encouraging her with a smile (the thing that Merrie had already decided he really was better off not doing).

Gold-digging opportunity was interrupted when L prowled into her ear again. _"We don't have taps in his house, unfortunately. Keep all affairs, sexual or otherwise, in public areas of this hotel so that we can monitor through the cameras."_

"_Are you serious, Ryuzaki?!_" Light scolded, making a fine show of disbelief when anyone who had spoken to L for more than five minutes would understand how serious he was in a heartbeat. "_You sound as if you actually want to watch that kind of thing!"_

"_I watched you shower and read pornography magazines, Light-kun. It doesn't bother me if in the end I can catch Kira."_

There was a yelp rather unbefitting of Japan's most promising college student. _"W-what?! You watched all that when you put cameras in my house?!"_

"_Of course I did."_

Merrie felt a squeal bubble up through her throat, and under her breath with exasperation through teeth gritted so hard her dentist would probably strangle her - "Oh, just fuck already."

Mr. Compensation looked as though all of his wet dreams were coming true. "Pardon? You want to...?"

Right, so, sometimes even the most clever of people say the thinking things out loud. It wasn't exactly her fault – the devious power of alcohol was clearly to blame. Truth be told, Merrie couldn't count how many glasses she had downed tonight on one hand. Mostly because she couldn't remember anymore, but that wasn't really a good sign either. She should probably slow it down and let Higuchi be the one, the _only _one, to get smashed. Well, soon, anyway, she thought as she shoved a fresh cup to her lips. For the time being, she would just have to pull something brilliant and investigation-related out of her ass without coming across as totally suspicious.

"You know, Higuchi-kun, I've noticed that Yotsuba's income has improved significantly over recent months, while competition has noticeably dropped." Brilliance!

"_You watched all that time?! You of all people should know that there are laws against privacy invasion! Oh, if only my dad had seen you..."_

"_Yagami-san was also watching the feed at that time."_

"_What?!"_

"_Don't be so shy about it. Reading pornography is completely normal for adolescents your age. Showering, on the other hand..."_

Higuchi coughed. "Yes, it seems that there's some god who favors Yotsuba, doesn't it?"

"_Okay, I'm not even going to comment on how off-base you are with being so militantly against hygiene. But I would like to say that Misa knew exactly what she was talking about when she called you a pervert."_

"_Your girlfriend cannot differentiate between the importance of capturing the century's most vicious mass murder and mindless sexual fulfillment. Light-kun seemed to comprehend this reality last night when he declined her request to, as she put, _two person tango_ behind the couch when I wasn't watching." _There was a pause that Merrie would've sold her firstborn to witness first hand, but unfortunately, she would have to live with only the voice in her earpiece and her vivid imagination to fill in the gaps. "_Of course, I would have been watching no matter what she thought. Oh, Wedy-san, in order to maintain a conversation, both parties need to continue speaking."_

"Do you think it was a god like Kira?" More brilliance!

Again, Higuchi coughed, and adjusted his tie. He leaned forward to fill Merrie's glass and his own. "No way. 'Course it's not Kira. Kira murders criminals, so what does that have to do with us?"

"Maybe Kira wants to gain Yotsuba's public support. Who knows, maybe the bastard even wants reimbursement for all of his hard work."

"I suppose..." The guy was getting sweaty here. Either he was getting nervous talking about his business's financial achievements, or he found the mundane topic totally arousing. "Wait! Kira kills with heart attacks! No one from our competition has died of a heart attack!"

"Oh, you've been keeping track?" Actually, Merrie could believe he was the type to be keeping track without having anything to do with Kira.

"Of course not." Higuchi then gave a huge, awkward smile, a sure sign that he had found a way to steer the conversation in another direction more to his liking. "You're right, though. Yotsuba has been doing extraordinarily well recently. A girl like you should find herself a position, if you stay in Japan that long."

Merrie slowly brushing her fingers down her neck until her fingers were straightened against her upper chest. Though her hand had stopped above her breasts, Higuchi's eyes had not. She purred, lowering the tone of her voice as though she were murmuring a secret. "What position... would I be the most suited for?"

"I'm looking for a new secretary!" he offered. Now it was Merrie's turn to cough and lift a fine eyebrow at him. Sensing his mistake for jilting a goddess with the unimpressive suggestion of office-sex twice a day and bringing him his morning coffee, he rerouted the conversation yet again. "You know, I'm a 5 dan in kendo."

That was nice. So he spent hours thrusting his wooden stick into empty air.

"_So are you saying you want Misa and me to have sex? It's like you're trying to encourage me!"_

"_I'm not trying to encourage you to do anything like that. All I'm doing is letting you know that anything you do with her will be kept in the records we are keeping of you as a Kira suspect. Considering the seriousness of the situation, that's hardly unreasonable."_

"_And how would not only the fact that I had sex with Misa, but additionally all the personal details about our experience that _you_ gather have anything to do with that?"_

"_I don't know, Light-kun. If you do have sex with her perhaps I will find out."_

"_Well, consider yourself deprived of the possibility."_

"_I'm not making you do it if you don't want to, you know. I didn't even suggest it. That was Amane-san."_

"_I know you want me to pretend to be her boyfriend-"_ Well finally! If only he had told Merrie that in the first place! _"-so that she will voluntarily tell me everything about her relation to the second Kira. But I've told you, over and over again, I don't want to toy with her feelings like that."_

"_That's fine. Anyway, I think I'm falling for Misa-Misa, so I don't mind."_

"_...Oh God."_

"_Light-kun, you don't think we would work out?"_

"_I can't tell if you're joking or dead serious about wanting to seduce Misa for information yourself."_

"_Don't discount my intentions because I am willing to go to further lengths than you to solve this case, Light-kun. This should only suggest my determination."_

"_Then don't discount my intentions because I-"_

"Will you just stop!" Merrie suddenly interrupted in a blind attempt to halt their bickering and pay more attention to her.

Oops. That was another of those thinking things that wasn't supposed to be out loud.

"Stop... what?" Higuchi asked with exaggerated concern.

Need brilliance need brilliance need brilliance-

"Stop talking," she said as sensually as she could with an blood alcohol content high enough to get her arrested on sight. Then she grabbed Mr. Compensation by the shoulders and smashed her face into his. Bravo, Wedy.

Huh.

Now this was surprising.

Either she was as shit-faced as a leprechaun on St. Paddy's, or Kyosuke Higuchi was good at this. No, by the name of everyone Zeus had screwed, he was sensational! His tongue pressed into her mouth, toying with her own and her lips with just enough force that Merrie groaned. She sunk into his embrace, grabbing his face with her hands to pull him closely and melting into his heavy, muscled 5-dan-in-kendo arms that encircled her. His chest was warm, his mouth was warm, everything was warm with forecast looking hot. It was good, oh ye gods, the best make-out she'd had in weeks. She was about ready for a voluntary wardrobe malfunction, and from the feel of it, Higuchi was too.

"_Wedy-san," _L interrupted nastily. "_He can't talk if you're sucking his face off all night."_

Sucking his..?! Who the hell did that filthy little cretin think he was?! "Oh, just shut up!" she flared, pushing away from Higuchi just long enough to dig into her ear and pull out the ear piece.

Thunk, a-thunk. It bounced against the floor.

Higuchi's eyes bulged to about twice their normal size, beady pupils contracting. He shoved her off of him, mouth working but without sound spilling out save undignified little grunts. Blanching, the guy looked as though his wife had just walked in, a wife half a pretty as Hera but twice as jealous, who was also a trained kamikaze with a bomb strapped to her chest. Merrie almost felt sorry for him until she remembered that this wasn't true, to the best of her knowledge, and actually she was the one in the dog house.

"W-who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Uhh..." As fabulous as liberation from her employer had been a few seconds ago, she realized now that she was totally wasted and had no great getaway ideas. Well, save one- she meant to point behind Higuchi, but she couldn't be sure since it seemed that she suddenly had about sixteen fingers-

"Hey look! It's Kira!"

* * *

The rest of the night went by rather quickly, relatively anyway. Merrie ran to Aiber like a bat out of hell, grasping his arm with the utmost urgency. When some lovestruck broad tried to shove her away, Merrie somehow ended up punching her in the face. If the security guards were trying to ignore the fact that she was stumbling around their high class party like a raging drunkard yelling madly, they couldn't do the same about physical assault when blood started spewing from the woman's nose. Aiber winced, going chalk white and much looking as though he would've liked to let security have at her. But then he seemed to remember that this lunatic was supposed to be his darling wife, at which point they began to run.

"Shit! Run! Run!"

"_Putain de merde!" _Despite the fact that they were running for dear life, or more importantly, for secret identity preservation, Aiber found the breath to explode into French cussing. Then, as if to clarify to his English-speaking companion, "_What the hell did you do?!"_

"Ooh," Merrie panted out as they shoved through the glass doors of the hotel with angry shrieks of _stop right now_! following them. "You know... this and that.."

"That's what I was afraid of." They turned the corner of the street, tearing through the sidewalks and avoiding lamplights, and Aiber swore again when sirens began to pierce through the night air. "Shit! They've got cops on us!"

Knowing that this little problem was somewhat her fault, she tried to be helpful. "Hey, let's scare 'em off! Get out your gun!"

"I don't have a gun!"

"You don't... what?"

When Merrie stopped in her tracks from the surprise, Aiber took her wrist and continued running. Nearly tripped on her own boots, damn it all, and when he was practically dragging her she forced herself up and jogged along, compensating for his longer stride. "What do you mean you don't have a gun? Why would you not bring a gun? Why would you go anywhere without a gun?!"

Aiber ignored her. "_Merde!_ We'll never be able to outrun them with the car."

"Did ya think I was bringing the gun?! What'd ya think, I'd be able to stuff it under my dress? In my bra? You fathead, I'm not even wearing a-"

"I swear, by God, I am _this close_ to leaving you here." There was a police car approaching, and Aiber pulled her behind a dumpster, covering her mouth and hiding until the vehicle had driven past. "Why the hell did Yotsuba call so many cops..."

Then, Merrie, being a creature of wit and cunning even in the most perilous of perils, had another brilliant idea. "We'll take Pegasus."

The Frenchman looked ready to flip the shit. "Wonderful. Now you're seeing flying horses!"

She persisted, digging out her keys from her boot as they crouched down. "No, my bike! We can lose any stinkin' cops with it! I had it parked just a block away in case of, err... emergencies?" Not that she had been half-expecting an emergency or anything.

"You want to... Oh God, no. You can hardly even walk!"

_WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. _Two more cop cars screeched down the road in a procession of flaring lights and shrieking noise.

"Fine," Aiber snapped. "But I'm driving."

* * *

About twenty-five minutes later, both Merrie and Aiber had survived yet another smashing adventure and they were back at home base. Clutching onto the con-man's back and screaming some hybrid of commands and advice into his ears as he tried to pilot her precious motorcycle had certainly been invigorating, but the moment they slid off and walked into L's building like nothing had happened it slipped her mind. After all, high speed chases were practically a daily occurrence for her, and to be fair, she wasn't exactly at her prime cognitive abilities.

"I am so... sloshed..."

The words poured out of her mouth as they rode up the elevator to the floor where L and Light were waiting for them, demonstrating her still-acute observational skills. It was all she could do to keep standing upright as they were raised upward, and miserably she leaned herself against the railing. All she could think was that she had failed her self-assigned mission, at least, that was all she was thinking plus a bit of idle wondering if Aiber was going to reject her for his wife, maybe his two identical twins that stood beside him in the elevator might be single.

When all three Aibers scowled at her, she decided not to ask.

Finally, after what felt like an unsteady eternity, the elevator doors swung open then like curtains to the next part of the show. Aiber pulled a stumbling Merrie out into the main investigation room, where both L and Light glanced to meet them from the computers they had been manning.

"I see that you're both alive," L noted, eyebrows pressed as low with cynicism as humanly possible as they could get. "Congratulations, I suppose."

"Yes, well, I've been through worse," the Frenchman said flatly. Then, "though it's debatable."

"Despite the flashy exit, believe it or not, I consider tonight a success," the detective announced, his glare not withering as he inserted a doughnut ball into his mouth. Apparently, he didn't think that his hired help were worth waiting the courtesy of swallowing before he spoke again, because he kept on talking with his tongue full of crumbly yellow goo. "I suppose I should thank Wedy-san for discovering this party, because firstly, comparing it to last year's reports, finances spent to cover it nearly doubled. It's curious that in such a short time, the company could afford to spend so much more. Of course, that compliments Light-kun's findings of their sudden economic fortune and the fact that a number of competitive corporates have been coincidentally dying..."

"More importantly, we have to note that business rivals aren't dying from heart attacks," Light added, turning his swivel chair all around. "If the connection is real, then Kira is able to kill in other methods, which will make him much more difficult to track."

"But I do believe there is a connection," L claimed with determination. "I was studying Higuchi very closely, and when Wedy's ear piece fell out, his terror wasn't something of a normal businessman. Furthermore, in addition to spending more money on the party, more money was clearly spent on security, as Wedy and Aiber can attest to now. In fact, I'm glad that we could see how prepared they are first hand."

"Hey, that's what you're paying me for!" Merrie hiccuped. "The greatest thief of all time, Wedy the Greatest! That's what they call me!"

"Wedy-san, I think you should just go to bed now," Light stated, trying unsuccessfully to mask his horror. "It's, uh, been a long night."

"What's wrong, baby... am I scary?" Having no idea what the hell she was saying anymore but deciding to just go with the flow as long as she was still conscious, she strode forward. Light looked absolutely petrified, sinking against the back of his chair, and then when she came too close for his comfort he jumped to his feet and pushed the chair between him and her for protection. Merrie laughed loudly. "You're... soooo cute! I want to just bite you all over!"

The kid stepped back in alarm. "Please don't."

"Wedy-san, I'll inform you now that I'm reinstating the alcohol prohibition for as long as you are working for me," L said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Also... there is a prohibition against biting Light."

Merrie clutched her face, tangling her fingers in her blond locks of hair. "Stop doing this to me! Stop it! You said you wouldn't toy with a woman's feelings! I can't handle this, I... oooh..." She paled.

"Wait! Please not on the-"

_Blaaaargh!_

"...floor... okay..."

An odd sort of silence spread across the room. It took Merrie a few moments to realize that everyone was staring at her and they were completely past the point where they were trying to maintain a show of etiquette. When what brain she had left from the alcohol told her that there was a pretty good chance she had done something sort-of not good or something, and recalling one or two or twenty other similar incidents of bad things happening when she was drunk, she decided that it'd be best if she stepped back and very discreetly left the party. Merrie raised herself on her tiptoes as best she could with heeled boots, and turned to begin walking as silently as a drunk super thief can.

Maybe she wasn't being silent enough, because everyone still seemed to be staring at her.

"Wedy," L growled.

"I'm... sneaking..."

"Get. A. Mop."

Caught again by L. Damn!

Unsteadily, she turned around again and tossed her head until she locked eyes with the bathroom on the other side of the room. One step at a time she advanced, skillfully dodging a not-so-drunk Aiber who stood like a wall with his arms cross, and also, apparently, someone had puked on the floor.

...Oh.

Piecing everything together with her brilliant-albeit-smashed mind, she slunk to bathroom door and after some fiddling, managed to get the stupid doorknob to turn. Everyone was talking behind her, but Merrie went back into self-misery mode. The whole night had been a failure. Her intentions had been noble and pure, so why had the gods made it so difficult? All she had wanted to do was artistically illustrate the beauty of romance, the splendor of a kiss and the poetry of wooing. If only she had been given a little more time, surely, _surely_ she would have succeeded into converting L and Light into ritual priests of Aphrodite.

But the evening had been concluded in violence and force. Running away and deceit. Yes, even foolish mistakes. If that was the lesson that the boys had absorbed from her teachings, then all hope was lost. When she finally found the dumb mop, she decided to be honest about her feelings with them.

"You don't have a chance anymore!" she wailed to the unamused faces surrounding her, clutching her mop like the only friend she had. "I did my best, but my efforts have all gone to waste! You will die, you will all die and you'll never know!"

"What are you going on about now?" Light, who hadn't realized that it was probably better to ignore her now, asked wearily.

"You!" Merrie turned on him, pointing her finger right into his face and making him instantly recoil. "Don't take that tone with me, young man! It's your fault, you had to be Kira, maybe, so this mess is all your fault! You should've just done your goddamn homework and stayed away! You made this all happen to me!"

"I... what?"

"And _you_!" she howled, turning her wrath to L. Panda Face was clearly pretending not to hear her, but as she jabbed her finger into his chest his dark eyes rolled up and he backed into his chair, bare feet twitching. Before he could protest, she continued her rant. "What did you think would happen, huh?! What'd you think would happen when you make prisoners of schoolboys? And then you have the nerve to tell me to come, come and help you because I owe you one! Well I try to help you, and I get no results at all!

"Oh no," she continued, tossing her head into the air. "I hope Kira murders us all, just so you all wonder, what have I done with my piss-poor excuse of a life? I hope you wonder! And then you'll know, and you'll wish you listened to me, Wedy, Queen of Thieves, and done what I told you to!"

She threw her arms out for added dramatic effect, and then-

_SMACK._ The handle of her mop walloped Light across the face, sending the adolescent falling to the ground.

There was a moment when Merrie didn't say anything, and Aiber didn't say anything, and even L didn't say anything. They all just stared at Light, who was now sprawled against the floor with his eyes closed, handcuff slack against his wrist and a slash of red across his forehead. Merrie supposed they were all waiting for him to sit up and curse at her for being clumsy, but he lay there like, like... like... uh-oh.

"Wedy.. you just killed Light."

"I did not kill him!" Merrie shrieked unhappily to the con-man. She poked her mop into his stomach. "He's breathing, can't you tell?!"

"No, I can't tell!"

L knelt down by Light's head, putting an arm around his head to lift it slightly and rest it against his knee. Light remained still and his head lolled like a rag doll's when L wasn't reinforcing its weight with his hands. "Aiber-san, please get Watari."

"Certainly. I would have _volunteered _to be the one to regretfully inform him that Wedy murdered our top suspect."

"I didn't kill him!" Merrie insisted. "Teenage boys are very versatile and... springy."

"Judgment is reserved for the courts. Plan your defense as you will, my dear, but I'm telling Watari everything I saw."

"Like hell you are, you sonuvabitch! I'm coming with you!"

"No," L interrupted the dispute. "Wedy-san will stay here and clean up the mess she made."

So Merrie was left fuming as Aiber skipped off to tattle, probably the greatest thing that had happened to him all day. Not only was she fuming, she was getting a little delirious from a wild panic that maybe she really _did _kill Light. She leaned down, studying him as intently as a drunk could, but damn it all, the alcohol was blurring her eyesight and she couldn't even tell how many chests Light had, let alone if they were moving or not. Nervously, she reached a hand to his face and stroked his cheek. At least it was still warm.

Of course it was warm, stupid. He died like, two seconds ago. A paranoid giggle slipped awkwardly out of her lips, and the first thing that came to her head was the fairy tale about Snow White, and how the dead princess needed a kiss to wake up.

"Should I kiss him, maybe?" Merrie offered helpfully.

"You should get a wet towel," L patiently corrected.

Sulking, Merrie stalked back to the bathroom she had come form. Opening the cupboard, she grabbed an uncounted handful of towels and huffed as she flipped the handle of the sink. This was the worst. Light and L – what a joke. The more she thought about it, the more depressed she became. The pair were nothing but uninterested, possibly even asexual young men, more concerned with catching Kira than their own happiness. It was a crying, miserable shame. And now Light was dead, or had a concussion or something, and they'd send him to some stupid hospital and L would proceed with his investigation only bothered because his best lead was no longer useful to him.

Why had she even agreed to help L in the first place? Why had she come here, this cold, dark, loveless place, rotting and waiting to get snuffed by Kira?!

"..ahhh..."

The teenager's soft groan was easily recognizable, even when drunk, and Merrie quickly ran her towels under the cold water. Okay, Light was alive, and some tiny, desolate part of Merrie's heart admitted that she probably owed him an apology. Head trauma actually hadn't been part of her diabolical plans, and she really hadn't meant for Light to get the brunt of a mistake. After all, Merrie did have a conscience and, to a point, had the capability to act upon that conscience, so she decided to make it up to the poor kid somehow.

She stepped outside the door frame and paused, sighing. L was cradling Light's head with the adolescent's shoulders hoisted up into his lap. The detective appeared to have been examining the skull for any serious injury underneath the bleeding scrape, and was hunched over in his observations. He delicately ran a finger against the wound and frowned.

Light moaned again and began to stir. He wasn't quite conscious but he seemed to be trying to get a hold of himself, judging from the way his was body twisted and his toes curled. L put a slender hand down on his forehead as though he were checking the boy's temperature, but the unconscious Kira suspect didn't like that. Light protested by raising his own hand to grab L weakly by the wrist and shove it off of him. His other arm bent at the elbow and gave him leverage to lift his upper body from L's lap.

From the sudden jerk of the uprising, Light's face collided with L's.

Mouths hit, stifling two surprised gasps.

They froze.

Cautiously, Light opened his eyes. L was still holding Light's back, and his own eyes – if possible – widened even more and were like dark lights striking with contrast against the bags under his eyelids. Light couldn't have been expected to react quickly, it was already asking too much that he comprehend the situation because of his head injury. But L certainly realized what was going on. L realized that the position they were in was very awkward.

So he adjusted his hold on Light to make the kiss more comfortable.

"Who.. ah, what..." The words scrambled incoherently out of Merrie's mouth, and the room seemed to have been drained of its oxygen supply. "Shiiiiiiit, I'm.. so...so..."

_Thunk._

And Merrie Kenwood was the second body to drop unconscious at the task force headquarters in a ten minute time frame.

* * *

_16 Hours Later:_

"Wedy. Wedy, oh wild spawn of Dionysus, you have to get up now."

Merrie groaned loudly and shoved the pillow over her face. "What the hell... go away!"

"L sent me to tell you that it's almost time for you to go to work again, and considering you take an hour and a half to get ready he thought you should start now."

She groaned again, as pathetically as possible, but Aiber didn't have mercy on her. He kept shaking her shoulder until he finally pulled off her blanket. Cursing loudly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. At the movement, a splitting headache tore its way between her temples and ravaged her brain like an earthquake. She realized that she had a hangover the size of Mount Olympus. "Jesus Christ... did I get drunk last night or something?"

"_Oui_, _mon chérie._ It was quite a riot. Don't you remember?"

"Nah," she yawned. "Could you be a dear and sum it up for me in a sentence or two?"

"You made out with a rich business corporate, evaded armed security guards, vomited all over and nearly killed Light with a mop."

"...Huh."

"And here I thought you'd be blushing."

"Eh," she shrugged, stretching her arms and falling back onto the mattress. "I've done worse."

-

_-To Be Continued..._

* * *

Author's Notes:

1. Uh, hi everybody. So um, it seems I haven't updated this since, oh, November-ish. I'm sorry! But I'm really grateful for all the feedback I've been given, all the demands and death threats to not forget about this fic. Thanks!

2. Was Wedy's English VA not super hot?! I was happy.

3. Interesting tidbit - according to HTR13, Ohba wanted to give Wedy a bigger part! Why didn't she?! D:

Thanks for reading!


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